


Dawn Is Coming, Open Your Eyes

by MellytheHun



Series: Not About Angels [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dark Humor, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Fluff, Humor, Hux's Tragic Past, I'm so pleased that's a tag omg, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo is Obsessive, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trigger Warnings Are Always In Beginning Notes, Unethical Use of the Force, lots of pain, mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 93,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux makes several mistakes; his first, existing on the same plane of reality as Kylo Ren. His second; saving Kylo Ren from certain death. His third; striking a deal with the beauty-marked, raven-haired devil himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This won't have regular updates - I'm writing sporadically and simultaneously working on 6 different fics, two of which are series. So. Forgive inconsistent posting. I'll tag chapters as appropriate and put trigger warnings in the notes above any given chapter. For this opening chapter, you should be warned that Kylo Ren's injuries are described, but not at length. Blood is mentioned, but this first chapter is pretty much trigger-free otherwise. Hope you enjoy the opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Part One is inspired by Stay Alive, by Jose Gonzalez
> 
> There's a rhythm in rush these days,  
> Where the lights don't move and the colors don't fade.  
> Leaves you empty with nothing but dreams,  
> In a world gone shallow,  
> In a world gone lean.
> 
> Sometimes there's things a man cannot know.  
> Gears won't turn and the leaves won't grow.  
> There's no place to run and no gasoline,  
> Engines won't turn and the train won't leave.
> 
> I will stay with you tonight,  
> Hold you close 'til the morning light.  
> In the morning watch a new day rise,  
> We'll do whatever just to stay alive.  
> We'll do whatever just to stay alive.
> 
> Well, the way I feel is the way I write,  
> It isn't like the thoughts of the man who lies.  
> There is a truth and it's on our side.  
> Dawn is coming,  
> Open your eyes.  
> Look into the sun as the new days rise.
> 
> And I will wait for you tonight.  
> You're here forever and you're by my side.  
> I've been waiting all my life,  
> To feel your heart as it's keeping time.  
> We'll do whatever just to stay alive.
> 
> Dawn is coming,  
> Open your eyes.
> 
> Look into the sun as the new days rise.
> 
> There's a rhythm in rush these days,  
> Where the lights don't move and the colors don't fade.  
> There is a truth and it's on our side.  
> Dawn is coming,  
> Open your eyes.  
> Look into the sun as a new days rise.

The ground shifts beneath him and his body can acknowledge that the air is cold, that his corporeal self is freezing, but he doesn’t really _feel_ it. The nerves are burnt or exhausted or dead or numb and nothing matters. He can smell his own blood, feel it seeping and pooling in his robes. There is a tear across his face and he thinks that if he moves his head at all, the skin might slip or slide out of place, further disguising him.

His lightsaber, disengaged, is still hot against his palm.

He shuts his eyes while the trees collapse around him and he reaches out, trying to see if aid is coming, if there is anyone else left on this forsaken bomb that has use of him, that will see worth in him - feeling for Snoke through the Force. There is only absence. Nothingness.

Snoke has left him.

_Because I have failed. Death is a mercy Snoke has granted to few. I should consider myself lucky._

Kylo grits his teeth and absurdly thinks to himself it will be quite a full day for Leia Organa; estranged son and separated husband both dying without bodies to recover on the same cycle. What a log entry.

_May Grandfather still receive me, despite my failures._

That’s the closest he’s ever come to praying.

Then he feels something pushing against him – not physically. There’s just an aggressive presence very suddenly, somewhere close.

It operates under his third eye unsteadily, like a moving target and it’s blurry, uncertain and it has a heart.

It is a person. They are panicked.

_Probably because the planet is currently imploding._

He reaches further out – there is a pod barely touching the ground and the people inside it are emanating dread and anxiety as they rightly should. Kylo can sense nothing wrong with the pod and he wonders why they are not taking off as they ought to.

The presence pushes against him again and he wants to tell it to stop, as if it’s a schoolyard bully tugging on his hair or poking him in the side to get his attention.

Then he can hear it.

_Where **is** he? He couldn’t have gotten far –_

Hux.

General Hux is looking for him.

General Hux is on the ground, alone, and _he_ is the shoving presence.

Kylo considers this closely; General Hux is not Force sensitive, but it would appear he was attempting, sloppily, to use the Force to reach for Kylo. To try to sense where Kylo is.

_How uselessly charming._

Something about that makes Kylo want to smile sardonically, but his face is numb and immovable. He cannot shout and even if he could, he doesn’t much care to be found. They will never make it back to the pod in time anyway. General Hux is a fool for having left in a perfectly suitable rescue pod and then returned, knowing the danger.

General Hux is probably panicked about facing Snoke without Kylo, the precious cargo he was once considered – there is no way for him to know that Kylo has been disgraced beyond redemption. That they will both die, falling down a fiery crevasse and it will be befitting of them both.

Boots crunch in the snow as the crust on the planet’s surface fragments again. Everything is shaking and falling and breaking, all while it’s cold and dark and infinitely lonesome. To Kylo, the constructs of this reality seem as familiar as ever; he has never known the universe to feel any other way.

He opens his eyes gradually to find General Hux crouching beside him, his face stoic, but his jugular bouncing violently against the tight collar of his uniform in visible fear. He must know too – that they will not make it to the pod in time.

General Hux presses something against his ear and picks his head up, staring out elsewhere and sneering.

“I have him and you will keep that fucking pod on the fucking ground, lieutenant, am I understood? I am returning with him and you will keep that _fucking pod on the fucking ground_ with the ramp lowered and the doors open and if I return and that pod is even a fucking inch above the ground, you will feel a wrath unlike you have ever imagined. Have I made myself clear?”

There is a beat, then General Hux adds hotly, “good. Now have two medical droids at the ready and tell EF-6493 to be ready to leave the ground at light speed the moment I step inside.”

General Hux’s hand drops from his ear and his attention returns to Kylo. His expression is bothered, but Kylo can’t decipher precisely what’s bothering him the most; perhaps the fact that he feels he has some requirement to rescue Kylo at all. Perhaps the lieutenant isn’t deserving of a titled ranking in General Hux’s opinion. Perhaps General Hux knows they will die shortly and he feels inconvenienced by inopportune death.

In a grand sweep, General Hux removes his greatcoat and drapes it over Kylo. He leans forward and pulls Kylo’s hood up over his head as well.

“A Knight of Ren, never mind the leader of them, mustn’t die of exposure, Lord Kylo Ren. It’s in poor taste - far too unremarkable a way to perish.”

Kylo is too tired to decipher if that was a joke or not. All he is able to collect from that is that General Hux’s tone of voice changed as soon as he was speaking to Kylo rather than the lieutenant, that Kylo found it soothing (which, the observation in and of itself is disturbing) and that he rather likes being called Lord Kylo Ren. He pities himself for the fact that he won’t live long enough to be called Master Kylo Ren.

He gives a doubtful slant of his mouth when General Hux buries his hands beneath Kylo’s back and knees. He doesn’t think the General has the upper-body strength to lift him, but he is quickly proven wrong. Extraordinarily strong arms work beneath him, lifting him into a bridal carry.

This is no small physical task. Kylo is more than six feet tall, nearly two hundred and fifty pounds in muscle and weighed down by his lightsaber and robes. It would seem he was deceived by the General’s small waist and tall limbs – perhaps it is just the uniform that makes him look smaller than he really is.

He begrudgingly admits to himself that he is impressed with General Hux. He even contemplates telling General Hux that he is impressed, but they are likely to die in the next three minutes and what would the use be anyway.

The greatcoat has immersed him in warmth and the pain in his side is turning sharp. The General’s disdain for Kylo’s mask is equaled by Kylo’s disdain for the General’s greatcoat. Usually. But for the moment, it feels like a safe haven.

“I know it’s one of your greatest pleasures, but if for once you could not be a dramatic child out to make my life more difficult than it already is and just put your arms around my neck for leverage, we would move much faster.”

There is no energy to argue. They’re going to die – or maybe it’s wishful thinking at this point. Kylo wraps his arms around the General’s neck and seethes at how it stretches his bleeding side. The General looks down at him worriedly as he quickly, but seemingly effortlessly, moves away from a tree that would have crushed them in its falling.

“Put your focus elsewhere. We will see to your wounds the second you board the pod.”

“Focus elsewhere?” Kylo manages to rasp, feeling blood drip from his wounded face onto the General’s shoulder, “I am not immune to pain.”

“Immunity to pain is not the absence of pain, Ren,” General Hux says surprisingly eloquently, considering he is simultaneously leaping over a crack in the earth, “it is the acceptance of pain that dulls it.”

Kylo blinks at the General – his hat is perched perfectly on his slicked-back hair, his eyes are front and forward, his face is flustered from the cold, but he is in all other ways an icon of strict control.

“Learn not to mind pain,” General Hux expounds, “If you don’t mind pain and you release your fear of death, you are truly capable of anything.”

“I have never feared death, General,” Kylo states, offended by this perceived accusation that he ever has been.

“Of course not,” General Hux replies aloofly, “I was making use of the royal ‘you,’ as in –"

“I _know_ what the royal sense of ‘you,’ means,” Kylo bites, pain emanating from his side and spreading up into his ribs.

General Hux glances down at him for a brief moment, then sets his eyes forward again.

“Do not mind the pain, Ren. Safety and proper care is upon you yet.”

Kylo wants to say more, but his throat is very dry and blood is leaving him so quickly. He lets his head hang, then loll to the side and rest against the crook of General Hux’s neck. There are a few faint freckles near his hairline and the hair of his sideburns and at the base of his neck are fine and delicate.

_I don’t know your first name._

The General nearly trips over a root coming up from the ground, but otherwise shows no signs of alarm other than moving faster.

“…I was unaware you could enter my mind.”

Kylo smirks against the General’s collar.

_I have many powers of which you are unaware, General._

Kylo can feel a sort of smugness coming off General Hux as he says more certainly, “survive the trip to the Unknown Regions and I will personally entertain your surprise magic tricks. If you recover from your wounds with minimal complaints and zero damage to my pod or the new ship we will be boarding, I will even pretend to be impressed.”

_There is so much I could show you. The power of the Dark side of the Force would astound you, could you appreciate it, General._

“Do you know what I appreciate? Silent compliance. One of my few joys in this life.”

_I **am** being silent._

Kylo can _feel_ General Hux rolling his eyes and he’s pleased with himself in a trivial, childish way. It’s a small, meaningless victory but it is the only one he can cling to.

“Don’t be smart with me, Kylo Ren. Now, stop invading my mind and don’t destroy the droids that try to sedate you - for all our sakes.”

_As you wish, Co-Commander._

Kylo knows General Hux despises sharing his power with anyone – particularly Kylo. He is unsure why his taunting hasn’t prompted the General to drop him on the ground and leave him to die yet.

He is equal parts amused, bewildered, ashamed, enraged and suicidal. There is no clear direction in which to focus his little energy. So he holds onto General Hux and allows the blackness that’s been spreading over his periphery to blind him.

All he remembers after that is the muffled sound of General Hux shouting orders, the rumble of a ship taking off at light speed, a flash of silver and black, a needle in his arm, a fleeting image of Han Solo and then nothing.

When he wakes briefly, he is in the med bay of an unfamiliar ship. He shuts his eyes and spreads himself as far as he can, which is not very far. He can assess his environment well enough to note some of the differences, though.

This ship is similar to the _Finalizer_ , but smaller. The population on board is severely lower than that of the _Finalizer_ as well. Fear runs like an undercurrent throughout the ship, there are many hearts.

He spots a nurse he does not recognize and influences her to come to his bedside.

“Why am I alive?”

His voice is rough and it’s painful to speak; he wonders how long he has been unconscious.

The nurse looks confused and worried. She blinks and replies, “the wounds in your shoulder and side were treated with the best of care and while I can’t imagine the pain of acquiring it, the cut along your face was shallow and healed readily under bacta gel. It has scarred, which we can treat, but not so soon after healing it. Maybe in a week or so –"

“Where is my lightsaber?”

“It is in the drawer in the table to your right, my Lord.”

Kylo glances to the right and feels the energy of it resonating from the drawer. Satisfied that it is there, he stares at the closed drawer and asks, “and where is my greatcoat?”

The nurse shifts uncomfortably and replies, “in a bag with the rest of your robes, Lord Kylo Ren. They will all be thoroughly washed before being returned to you, of course.”

“Not the greatcoat.”

“Sorry, my Lord?”

He turns back to her and makes heavy eye-contact.

“You will not wash the greatcoat,” Kylo orders, a throbbing headache forming, patience thinning already, “You will return the greatcoat to me as is, and if anyone questions you about the greatcoat, you will not recall what became of it.”

A shine covers the nurse’s eyes like a dead fish and she nods, replying, “I will not wash the greatcoat. I will return the greatcoat to you as is, and if I am questioned about the greatcoat, I will not recall what became of it.”

“Very good,” Kylo mutters with a lack of feeling, falling back into the bed, embarrassed at how much energy that simple old trick cost him, “Has anyone been by?”

Her eyes are still glassy in an odd way, but she is able to comprehend his question and tells him, “General Hux has only just left your bedside for the first time in the last seventy-six hours and only because his audience is demanded of by the Supreme Leader. Captain Phasma was here less than twenty-four hours ago, as well.”

Kylo’s brow furrows in wonder. He is in too much pain and much too tired to think more on any of this for the time being, so he waves the nurse off and tells her, “thank you.”

As she leaves, Kylo makes a decision about what to do with General Hux.

When he finds himself alone again, he briefly regrets not asking the nurse if she happens to know General Hux’s first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful, incredible artwork i do not deserve was created by [theriseofthefirstorder](http://theriseofthefirstorder.tumblr.com/) [right here](http://theriseofthefirstorder.tumblr.com/post/146191015660/a-knight-of-ren-mustnt-die-of-exposure-lord)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appropriate trigger warnings for this chapter; Kylo uses the Force to physically move Hux against Hux's will, hurting him briefly.  
> I might post the third chapter later today or tomorrow if I can focus enough on editing lol

“And what exactly am I looking at here?”

General Hux made himself scarce once he was alerted that Kylo was awake. This bothered Kylo Ren as much as it entertained him; the idea that, even bedridden, General Hux was avoiding him - the man must have truly been perturbed when Kylo entered his mind and Kylo can feel General Hux’s continued disturbance from across the ship now; how lasting the effect has been pleases Kylo.

A few days’ rest and Kylo was able to stretch himself over the ship, begin picking out specific individuals, thoughts floating around the ether, assign them to voices and faces. This allowed him to feel more back to himself than he had in a long while.

His healer was a short Lorrdian woman, too intelligent to be tricked by him as the former nurse had been – but she was agreeable, at least. He refused the pain medications she constantly offered him, however, which she was unhappy with him about.

If he didn’t have the physical pain to focus on, though, his thoughts might wander and he did not care to find out where they might like to go, given recent events. Focusing on the pain made everything sharp again; drove him to work through the pain for something greater – even if that ‘something greater,’ was just the ability to find the mood of General Hux’s thoughts from the conference room three corridors down from the med bay.

At the end of three weeks, Kylo was comfortable enough to return to his own quarters and so for his last day in the med bay, he ordered Captain Phasma to bring General Hux to him.

And now General Hux is sneering down at a holoscreen, Captain Phasma is a stoic strength behind him and silence has woven itself stiltedly throughout the conversation at hand.

“It is a list, General.”

General Hux looks up at Kylo from under his lashes, his face turned down to stare at the empty holoscreen. Kylo thinks to himself that he likes this expression on the General. He also looks substantially less intimidating without his greatcoat. Kylo wonders if the crew and soldiers have been treating General Hux with less respect. He looks much thinner, much smaller.

“There is nothing on here.”

“Keen observation,” Kylo replies.

General Hux sighs long-sufferingly and puts the screen down on the bedside table, then crosses his arms. One hand with long, gloved fingers comes up to massage his temple and he shuts his eyes. When Kylo’s mind touches gently at the General’s frontal lobe, he can hear counting.

He makes sure to interrupt the count at ‘eight.’

“It is the list of complaints I made during my stay in the med bay.”

General Hux opens his eyes now and glances at the holoscreen, then back to Kylo.

“…okay? And the significance of this is…?”

Kylo touches absently at the white wraps on his side, his torso still bare.

“Being tucked away in the med bay has given me limited access to your equipment and so nothing has been damaged and I have made less than minimal complaints during treatment – I made no complaints, as is evidenced by the list compiled by your medical staff. I have met your requirements. We had an agreement, General.”

Captain Phasma turns her head slightly to look at the General who looks outraged and still very confused. Kylo can sense and visibly see when it dawns on General Hux what it is he is talking about.

“Surely, you are joking.”

“I am not much of a comedian, General.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am all too serious. I demand your audience. We had an agreement.”

“Sir, what is he referring to?”

Another loud sigh and General Hux turns to Phasma, disregarding Kylo behind him, as if he is no longer there.

“Nothing. This is below me and I have much to do.”

He makes it halfway toward the door before stopping rigidly, unnaturally. Captain Phasma calls after him in concern, then looks back at Kylo who has his hand outstretched, towards General Hux. He twists his wrist and General Hux turns with it, scowling dangerously, but unable to move; he's levitating a few inches above the ground with his arms looking invisibly tied down to his sides.

Kylo floats General Hux to stand in front of him again and then releases control. The General lands quietly and gracefully onto his feet again, lets out a long exhale, rubbing at his sternum where Kylo imagines he might be feeling a burning sensation. He has never been manipulated by the Force as he has just used it, but he has heard that it hurts briefly, afterward.

“You agreed that if I survived the trip to the Unknown Regions, made minimal complaints during treatment and destroyed no property aboard this ship, that you would _entertain_ me - those were your words, as I recall them. I also believe praise was offered.”

Captain Phasma’s concern radiates from her as she looks to the General. Kylo wonders if she is particularly attached to him; she doesn’t seem emotionally attached to anyone or anything, but one can never know without probing and Kylo is much more interested in General Hux’s head at this time. Wondering on her potential attachment to General Hux can wait for a later time.

“Sir, _what_ is he talking about?”

General Hux doesn’t break narrowed eye contact with Kylo when he replies to Phasma,“Lord Kylo Ren, assuming his survival of the collapse of the Starkiller base, demanded my audience for some show of unimaginable power through use of the Force.”

“He is looking to show you the ways of the Force?”

Kylo laughs humorlessly and Hux scowls.

“Our dear General here is about as Force sensitive as a rock,” Kylo smirks, his facial scar itching terribly, “No, I would not teach him. It was less an invitation to a show and more to a philosophical debate.”

Hux cocks a brow at him, an impatient, leather finger tapping against one of the bends of his crossed arms.

“General Hux has nearly as much appreciation for the power of the Force as he does recreational play. I’m looking to see if I can sway his opinion.”

“And what precisely will this accomplish?” General Hux asks in annoyance.

“That is yet to be seen,” Kylo replies, coming to stand on his feet, using those few inches he has over the General to assert some dominance, “But I have your word and intend to hold you to it.”

A hush falls over the room, some machines beeping or whirring, a few droids powering up or down, the constant white noise of a moving spacecraft, but it is for a large portion, silent. Kylo doesn't need to enter the General's mind to know he is weighing his options of action; he has thought before that it is more cost-efficient to do as Kylo asks him and he is fearful of Snoke's favoritism for Kylo. He doesn't want to spend more time than necessary with Kylo, but he knows before admitting to himself that he will go where Kylo directs him to.

Glaring at Kylo, General Hux’s shoulders stiffen even more (if at all possible) and he says venomously, “you are _endlessly_ vexing.”

“Come, General,” Kylo invites rather than orders, moving toward the open archway to the med bay, “you and I have an engagement.”

“What?” General Hux exclaims, twisting around to stare at the back of Kylo’s head, “Right now?”

“No time like the present,” Kylo responds easily, “Now follow me.”

His feet are as bare as his torso and the pants given to him by one of the nurses are loose-fitting and a pale beige. They’re comfortable, though, and the cool air of the ship on his hot, healing skin is actually refreshing. The pain in his side, shoulder and skull is dulled, but now it’s a constant buzz rather than coming in sporadic, jarring bursts.

He doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to see that the General is following him, as requested. Even if he couldn’t hear the irritated patter of General Hux’s boots just a few strides behind him, Kylo can _feel_ him again. There is an energy about General Hux that pushes like a bubble about to burst right against Kylo’s aura.

"You know, some of us have schedules to keep to."

"So I've heard."

"This is inane and a waste of my time."

"But pacing relentlessly in front of the control panels and putting biblical fear into new cadets is a much better use of your time."

"As a matter of fact, it _is_ a better use of my time, seeing as I have an army and ship to run."

"That must be so hard for you."

There is an exasperated sigh.

“I have a meeting in two standard hours.”

“Then for the next two standard hours, it would appear your schedule is with _me_.”

The creaking of leather against leather reaches Kylo's ears; General Hux's hands are turning to fists and Kylo feels just slightly amused again.

“Do you even know where you’re going? You realize we’re not on the _Finalizer_ anymore.”

“I do not know the name of this ship, but I knew upon waking that it was not the _Finalizer_ and yes, I do know where I’m going. Through routes of thought and power that is beyond your comprehension, I have this ship mapped and memorized already and likely, better than you have it.”

General Hux finally comes to walk beside Kylo, righting invisible wrinkles on his uniform jacket, carefully stoic again.

“That would be impressive, but quite impossible, seeing as I designed and engineered her myself.”

Kylo lifts a brow and turns his head more towards the General. That smugness is coming off him in waves again.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that I am a genius strategist _and_ engineer?”

“You designed Starkiller base and that is the extent of my knowledge.”

“For a being who claims to possess unknowable and omnipotent power, your knowledge of those around you seems fairly limited.”

Kylo’s expression falls into something darker when he responds quickly, “you know well that I could take your mind anytime I like and see everything you have offered the First Order, but I have the decency to give you privacy. You should be comforted by the fact that I have your ship memorized and not the pathways of your own mind.”

General Hux chances a glance at Kylo and when their eyes meet, Kylo is filled with sudden tension. He wonders if the General feels this too; without his helmet, he is much more susceptible to these more complex, intricate shifts in body language. There is a fiery thing between them that Kylo has thought mostly as hate in the past.

He is beginning to think that hatred has little to do with the energy between himself and General Hux, however.

He doesn’t feel hatred when he thinks on General Hux or looks upon him. There is intrigue, something restless like a caged beast, heat, competition and something crackling like lightning, but those images and vague concepts do not a feeling make.

Ultimately, Kylo Ren can admit to himself that currently, he is unsure of what he feels when he thinks on General Hux.

As they turn a corner, General Hux says, “her name is _Aurora_.”

“Any chance you’ll tell me _your_ name now as well?”

General Hux glares dangerously at him and answers sternly, “ _Hux_.”

Kylo sighs, fatigued and bored with the answer. They follow the corridor in silence the rest of the way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are any trigger warnings applicable to this chapter. Just Kylo being manipulative and sort of blackmailing Hux. Hope you enjoy!

They enter Kylo’s quarters, which Kylo knows no one has entered but the cleaning staff. General Hux is taking note of the differences, clearly, though Kylo has no idea what General Hux’s private quarters look like. Much different from this, he supposes.

The bed is long and wide, the room is windowless, the closet is ajar and reveals clean, black robes hanging and the sheen of silver on his helmet glimmers from a shelf above the hanging rack, but all else is bare.

“Besides minimalism, is there anything more interesting to this Jedi magic?”

“I am _not_ a _Jedi_ ,” Kylo snaps, eyes dark and muscles taught, bringing his dull pain to a sharp crescendo.

General Hux looks drily at him and simply says, “get a hold of yourself.”

He looks around the room a little longer before the door shuts, seemingly of its own accord and blankets them in darkness. The General looks startled for a brief second, but then looks knowingly in the direction of Kylo, who can see him quite perfectly in the black.

“Lights at twenty-eight percent.”

The lights turn on, dull and blurring the details of the room, making everything appear much softer than it actually is.

“Please, remove your jacket, gloves and hat, General.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?”

“I believe your exact words were that you would entertain my magic tricks and even pretend to be impressed. Consider this part of the magic trick. Take off the jacket, gloves and hat, General.”

“Just call me Hux,” he mumbles in response.

Movement is hesitant, but once he unclips his belt and is out of his uniform jacket, Hux rolls up his dark grey shirt sleeves to his elbows and even loosens his collar of his own accord. It strikes Kylo as strange that he is only just first seeing the full expanse of the skin of Hux’s neck; they have been living on the same ship for three standard years and it seems unimportant a thing, but strange all the same.

Hux is tall, very close in height to Kylo, in fact, and deceptively lithe; the veins that run down his arms and in his ungloved hands speak of strength, though. Kylo wonders if Hux toned his body this way specifically; so that he would be underestimated in a fight. Or a rescue.

“Well, let’s get on with it, then,” Hux says impatiently.

Kylo comes to stand close to Hux, his arms clasped behind his back. He circles Hux while Hux only follows his movements with his eyes; his heartbeat is even and measured.

“Your heart beats only thirty-three beats a minute.”

“I have height and am in impeccable health; my heart is strong. Is this the magic you speak so highly of?”

“So eager,” Kylo teases slowly, without a smile, “No, Hux. Just an observation.”

“My time is significant and my attention should be properly respected, Kylo Ren,” Hux begins formally, “If you’re so set on showing me a magic trick, then go ahead already.”

Kylo lingers by Hux’s left side, knowing Hux can feel his eyes on him, but is refusing to make contact.

“I _could_ show you a mind _trick_ , if you so desired, Hux. But mind tricks are child’s play and I personally think you would find them uninteresting. I am strong with the Force, but your mental fortitude is remarkable as well and seeing as I am not fully healed, I don’t know that I would be able to perform a mind trick on you anyway.”

Shallow curiosity begins spreading through Hux’s blue eyes and Kylo is encouraged by this. He thinks to himself that he should have known that to pique the General’s interest, all he would have to do is insinuate some type of challenge or compliment one of his many skills.

“Besides,” Kylo adds, “The entire idea of a mind trick is for the being whose mind has been altered to not realize their mind has been altered. So, if I successfully did use a mind trick on you, you would never know – could never appreciate what I had done. And where is the fun in that?”

“So, people you use mind tricks on never realize their mind has been tampered with?” Hux asks.

Kylo nods and finally moves past Hux’s side, peering into his closet. He notes that from this angle, he can see a sliver of the General’s greatcoat hanging behind his own black robes. He lifts his right hand and waves in the same direction, thus shutting the closet door.

“Is there a particular reason for that?”

“Of course,” Kylo answers readily, turning around again to face Hux, “Have you ever heard a saying; that the devil’s greatest trick was convincing the world he did not exist?”

“In this scenario, you are the devil, then?”

Kylo almost smiles.

“Mind tricks will not do,” Kylo decides to respond, “I would like your introduction into the Force to be memorable and inarguably fascinating. You will not need to _pretend_ to be impressed. So, nevermind the mind tricks. Allow me to show you an illusion, instead.”

“There is a difference between a trick and an illusion?” Hux asks; he means to ask this rhetorically, but Kylo answers him.

“Quite a difference.”

Hux jumps suddenly, caught off guard by water pouring down his back. His hair falls out of place and the back of his dress shirt sticks uncomfortably to his spine. The back of his pants too are wet and when he moves away from the sensation and turns around to see what has happened, he feels sloshing.

He looks down and sees his boots mid-calf deep in clear, sparkling water. The sand beneath his boots is heavy in that way more moist planets’ beaches feel. There are some pebbles, small silver fish weaving around his legs and the pool he is standing in, Kylo is outside of. Kylo is standing on green grass, a few yards away.

Hux tilts his head up and back, then steps backward to get a full view of the waterfall babbling behind him. The stones it’s moving elegantly over are smoothed over from decades, maybe centuries of the water beating against them. There are faded patches of moss, discolorations in the stones that happen in nature over time; he reaches past the wall of water to touch at one of the stones and pets his fingers over the broad curve of it.

There are pores in it, but it is mostly smooth and almost a little soft, like an imperceptibly thin layer of mold coats it. He turns back toward Kylo, who is standing in the little shade offered; the trees are rather large, with overhanging branches and oversized leaves, but they are few in number. He is still in his beige pants, his feet and torso still bare.

A gentle breeze pushes past them and it shifts the shadows cast by the trees; sunlight hits the stones and water, bouncing in every which way, glimmering like diamonds. He can see miniscule insects and dust motes floating through the air, hit by the golden light.

“You… have not transported us somewhere,” Hux asks more than says.

“No, I have not.”

Hux looks up at the sky; blue, partly clouded. The scent on the air is rich, but not overpowering. There is pine and mint, the distinct smell of plant life.

“So, we are still in your quarters.”

“Yes.”

“Can you see any of this?”

“Of course,” Kylo replies, stepping into the sunlight and then ankle-deep into the water, “I can see both the room as it is and the illusion I have created for you.”

“Both are existing on the same plane?”

“Yes.”

“How can these two things be the same place, taking up the same unit of space on the same channel of reality?”

“You ask fascinating questions, Hux.”

Hux turns away from a breed of bird he doesn’t recognize moving across a high branch to face Kylo again. His stoicism is put away for the time, it seems. He looks openly curious – perhaps not impressed yet, but curious. Kylo is intent on surpassing Hux’s expectations of him. He doesn’t know why it seems so important, it just is.

“They can exist simultaneously because one is reality and one is an illusion painted over it. They are not two realities sitting on top of one another.”

“This is all an illusion?” Hux inquires, looking at the water droplets still in his open palm, “But – all of my senses confirm that it exists. Even if it is an illusion, my senses are all interacting with it, so it must have some measure of reality to it.”

“I promise you that your senses are lying to you.”

“This water,” Hux starts, gesturing to his soaked backside and kicking his foot in the pool, “it must be real. You have conjured it. Even if the surroundings are false, the elements of it must –"

“Some Force users can create something out of nothing, that is true, but there is no water, Hux.”

Hux stares at him for a few beats, then down to his feet and his own wavy reflection in the waters.

“Most illusions can be broken once touched,” Kylo informs him.

This brings Hux’s attention back to him; he finds he likes Hux’s attention focused on him. Much like he likes having Snoke’s undivided attention. Hux is an important man; even Kylo can admit this. Hux fought tooth and nail for his military position and power; Kylo attained the same level of respect and power through divine right. He does not feel beneath Hux as he does Snoke, but not quite above him either. To take up Hux’s time is something suspiciously close to a reward or an honor.

“But your illusions cannot?”

“I am particularly strong with the Force,” Kylo says, as if he has said it a thousand times, “I am unlike other Force users. My illusions are grand because I will them to be so, my power is greater and so my illusions stronger. Have I impressed you yet?”

Hux slants his eyes and doesn’t dignify the question with a response. Rather, he looks again at the bird he doesn’t recognize and asks, “how do you know when anything is real?”

“This illusion is an extension of my mind, this place is not a memory. This place, to my knowledge, does not exist.”

“It doesn’t?”

There is genuine surprise in Hux’s voice and Kylo is nearly humbled by it.

“No,” Kylo says gently, “I built this for you.”

Hux’s shoulders tense and he blinks a few times, some droplets hanging from his pale lashes. His brow furrows and he asks, “this – this entire place, you built for the purpose of showing me your use of the Force?”

“I hope it is to your liking,” Kylo says in answer.

“I could have done without the water being dumped down my back,” Hux complains haughtily, but then he asks more kindly, “So, you built this place while in the med bay?”

Kylo nods again and Hux hums, aiming for uninterested but missing by about a mile and landing somewhere between intrigued and frightened.

“It would appear, then, that I am not the only noteworthy engineer aboard this ship.”

Such a simple statement and Hux has said so much.

Hux is implying Kylo is a remarkable engineer, such as himself; he _is_ impressed.

Kylo’s heart thumps violently, just once.

_Strange._

“You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

Kylo crosses his arms and stands perfectly still as Hux approaches him from the water. Mandatory personal space limits in regard to General Hux is about a three to five foot radius. Hux walks up to just nearly three feet in front of Kylo and then asks again, “how do you know when anything is real?”

“I could ask you the same question and I imagine neither of us would have a ready answer with inarguable evidence to support it,” Kylo replies, “Reality is an experience through the medium of time, not the passing of it. If time is endless then so is reality and the infinite ways it can be experienced through sentient beings. Reality, or our perception of it, is arbitrary at best and false at worst. To describe something as real is to assign any other meaningless name to it.”

“I do not think time is endless.”

Kylo quirks a brow at Hux, but Hux remains entirely serious and expounds immediately, “I think it is a flat circle. What we call endlessness is just that. All time exists at once; that is what is understood as the infinite, but that is not it. Eternity has nothing to do with the structure of time. I’m unborn, living, dying and long dead all at once in this circle and perhaps there are flat circles stacked below and above ours as well, other planes of reality with their own finite experiences of time, but eternity is a lie of comfort. It is a falsehood, meant, I think, to ease the discomfort of accepting one's own discordant limitations.”

Silence descends upon them and Kylo can feel that they are both thinking the same thing; this conversation has bordered on pleasant. The fact is unnerving, but not unwelcome.

“If nothing is real,” Hux begins quietly, “how do you know that you are manipulating the Force?”

“I am not manipulating the Force. I am manipulating perceivable time _through_ the Force. The existence of the Force at all proves the arbitrary nature of known reality. The Force is more than a medium; it is all space-time. The Dark side of the Force is most powerful for it’s constant resistance to time.”

“How so?”

Kylo takes another step into Hux’s space, expecting to crowd him, but Hux doesn’t move. Hux doesn’t seem bothered at all, in fact. He seems authentically fascinated in what Kylo will say and that unnamable energy between them sparks like primitive rocks being run alongside each other.

“I could unspool your mind and recreate, even erase your experiences of time and reality. I could wash memory from you, replace memories, alter or eliminate the all of you, convince you of unrealities, heal lethal wounds, bring you back from the clutches of Death itself. The Dark side does not adhere to the restraints of measurable time.”

This close up, Kylo can see the various shades of blue in Hux’s eyes. Hux’s irises smoke and sparkle like cobalt and admiral blue nebulae. There are silver flecks hidden in the lightest hues, like faraway quasars.

Those intense, blue eyes are staring directly into Kylo’s eyes and Kylo can hear Hux’s heart; it is calm and slow as before. Kylo’s own heart only slows down to such a tempo when in deep meditation; he wonders how General Hux achieves this level of clear-headedness while up and about, and particularly while interacting with him. He hopes that, if asked, General Hux will teach him how to obtain this skill for himself.

“I don’t believe you,” Hux denies, but he doesn’t mean it. He is very nearly smiling and it sounds almost more like a fond question than an opinion.

“I would like for you to remain by my side, Hux.”

Hux’s forehead pinches.

“I’m right here.”

“For the foreseeable future.”

Hux’s expression instantly turns to panic and now his heart rate is picking up, flushing his high cheekbones and even the back of his exposed neck.

“What are you talking about?”

“I could provide for you,” Kylo offers, taking a step forward just as Hux takes one back, “I could create illusions for you whenever you desire escape, I could help tame unruly troopers, forecast battle outcomes, use Force horror or insanity on any who dare try to harm you - I could serve you well.”

“What in the Hells are you going on about?! _Serve_ me?”

“You saved my life –"

“Snoke _ordered_ me to –"

“You didn’t have to go yourself –"

“I was _given an order_ , I just followed it, it has _nothing_ to do with –"

“You were panicked for me.”

Hux’s lips slacken just a touch and his arms are up, awkwardly, his legs unsure of what they should be doing; running or collapsing, his body and mind in a standstill.

“I thought, at first, the panic coming from you was due to the implosion –"

“It _was_ ,” Hux interjects angrily.

“But your fear was soothed upon finding me. The only disruption in your calm from that moment on was when you thought the ship would leave without us. You attempted to use the Force.”

“I did no such thing!”

“I do not think you meant to,” Kylo assures, “I had no desire to be found, though. So, it was not my doing – that you found me in time and, I promise you, coincidence is what fools rely on when they want to believe the universe is ever so lazy. The Force lead you to me, but for it to do that, you put your own life in imminent danger for the sake of my own and, knowingly or not, you put your faith in the Force.”

Hux looks like he’s at a loss for words, which Kylo is fine with. He finds that the more he speaks, the more likely others are to do as he tells them; he has been advised that it is the deep octave of his natural voice that forces those within range to hear it no matter how they may not want to. That the influence of his voice in the air can even force others to obey it.

“You had nothing to gain from my rescue – I think there may have been a time in the past you would not have come for me at all, despite Snoke’s orders. But you did. At enormous personal risk. That sense of responsibility to me and my life must be secured, protected and properly rewarded.”

“You want to _keep_ me? Is _that_ what you’re saying?” Hux barks, scandalized.

“Without Force sensitivity, you cannot be a Knight of Ren and so I can never lead you, but I can be your equal, Hux. If you had even an ounce of Force sensitivity in you, I would have already gone to Snoke and demanded your loyalties.”

Hux visibly swallows and it makes his throat bob; Kylo absently notes the freckles on the turn of Hux’s jaw.

“Is that so?”

“He would have ordered you to join me. I could have trained you,” Kylo adds, looking at the stray, red hairs that have sprung out of place across Hux’s forehead, “But that is not a channel through which I can obtain you.”

An airy laugh is punched out of Hux’s chest and while he still looks horrified, he says confidently, “I am not a thing to be _obtained_ , Kylo Ren. I am a General of the First Order, not some play-thing or masked Knight.”

“You would never require a mask,” Kylo responds, his voice much quieter than he means it to be; his gentle tone makes Hux all the more uncomfortable, “You’ve the face of a man with great control and capability. I think to hide it would be counterintuitive. You would never stand behind me as the other Knights of Ren; I would have you beside me.”

“And if I refuse?”

Kylo keeps his expression still and unreadable.

“I will take the matter to Snoke.”

“You think Snoke will order me to-to… to be whatever the Hells it is you think I am useful for?”

“I think Snoke has given me almost everything I have asked of him and if I go to him and tell him I require your loyalty, that he will arrange it thus.”

Kylo is lying.

There is no way for Hux to know that, though.

It is true that Snoke has given Kylo much of what he has desired; knowledge and access to the powers of the Dark side, lessons no one else in the known Universe could offer, mounting and rampant power. However, none of these things were Earthly attachments.

The Jedi can reward loyalty, but they do not show favor for one Jedi over another; the success of one Jedi is the success of all Jedi. It is a principle Kylo has come to despise; his power was never appreciated, he was made to remain level to those below him, those without the wonders of his connection to the Force. He was smothered and underestimated.

To surpass his peers or teachers was somehow an insult to Luke Skywalker and the others Kylo trained with when he was Ben Solo. Snoke saw his potential, though.

Snoke came to him in dreams and offered him visions of the future – told him the _real_ story of his grandfather. Embraced and encouraged Kylo’s use of passion, fury and loathing to expand his abilities – as opposed to the way Luke Skywalker would punish or isolate Ben Solo for demonstrating his furor and what he could accomplish with it.

There are many differences between those that use the Light side of the Force and the Dark, but Kylo doubts that Snoke will approve of his desire for Hux’s loyalty. Hux is a passing, human attachment, temporary as all attachments.

Hux still doesn't know that, though.

“Sir?”

The intrusion of a foreign voice breaks Kylo’s concentration and the illusion vanishes, exposing the plain walls of his room again. Hux feels frantically at his back, but his palms only find dry, pristinely pressed material. To turn his back to Kylo is very clearly difficult, but he does, before reaching for a comm in his jacket pocket.

“Yes?”

“Captain Phasma has just alerted me that your in-coming officers have just docked with us.”

Hux glares sternly at the comm, too frustrated apparently to hear Kylo open and shut his closet door.

“What do you mean!? They shouldn’t be here for another standard hour at least!”

“There was an error in scheduling, General. Captain Phasma is leading them to the observation deck and awaits your instructions.”

Hux lets out a cross between an annoyed groan and a defeated sigh. He signs off with whoever was on the other end of the comm and doesn’t turn around again until his belt is in place, his jacket is tight against his chest and waist, his hair is smoothed down, his hat placed neatly atop his head and his gloves are snug and partially hidden beneath the cuffs of his jacket.

“It would appear my aforementioned schedule has –"

Kylo is fully dressed and holding his helmet in front of him, looking unbothered.

“Our discussion is not over, General. Even if it were, I would still be accompanying you to the observation deck.”

“No,” Hux orders, “No. Absolutely not. _No_. You are not accompanying me _anywhere_ , we are _not_ discussing this further – and this, this – this entire… _thing_ , whatever the Hells this was, _never_ happened.”

“Your officers and Captain are awaiting you, General.”

Hux scowls, hesitates momentarily, but then moves quickly for the door while Kylo patiently places his helmet over his head, feels at his lightsaber in its holster and follows Hux out into the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real trigger warnings for this chapter. Hux is a highly manipulative person, but y'all probably knew that already

Twelve officers are waiting on the observation deck of _Aurora_ , which Kylo notices bears a lot of aesthetic similarities to the _Finalizer_ now that he is walking through it; he wonders if _Aurora_ was waiting somewhere for them - a type of _Finalizer_ prototype that was available to host them all post-battle.

Captain Phasma stands to the left and back of the group, all standing at attention and in some sort of orderly formation. Kylo senses for Hux’s response to them, expecting some measure or disdain or boredom, but Hux is emanating serenity and control, as if Kylo isn’t even there. It’s infuriating to be ignored, but also intriguing to watch Hux at work.

“Fresh out of the Academy,” Captain Phasma says conversationally, “They graduated only fourteen hours ago.”

“They thought I’d need twelve?” Hux asks, still eyeing the group while none make eye-contact back to him.

Most of them feel fearful.

Kylo shuts his eyes and blankets himself over them; he catches a few wandering thoughts.

They have all heard legends and rumors of General Hux. One of them is recalling a portrait of General Hux. In the Academy there is a trophy hall where, apparently, a graduation holo-photo hangs; Kylo focuses in on that image, but all that lies beneath the holoportrait is _First to ever graduate as Lieutenant Colonel, most remarkable student in the history of the Academy, now General A. Hux of the First Order_. It’s followed by a blurred description the student cannot visibly recall.

Moving over the small crowd, there are more anxieties; a general fear of failure to live up to the expectations of General Hux, two of the officers don’t believe they are ready or properly prepared to work directly under the General. One of the officers wasn’t sure General Hux was a real General; thought him to be more a figurehead than anything authentic.

There is a rumor a few of them believe that while in school, Hux murdered other students. The few that believe this have heard the story from different sources in different ways – Kylo half-hopes Hux started the rumors himself before graduating.

Hux’s calm demeanor is more upsetting to them than the fiery, barking delusion of him they’d built in their imaginations.

“I don’t think it was out of necessity, General,” Captain Phasma replies, “I believe they wanted to present you with the top of their graduating class, so you could choose who best suited your needs.”

Hux nods, unaware of how these new officers are taking note of his pristine uniform and squared shoulders. They have great respect for him; their respect for his accomplishments nearly meets that of their collective fear of him.

_He is so much more handsome in person._

Kylo clings onto that thought and traces it back to one of the officers standing in the front row of their formation. He is an inch or so shorter than General Hux, has platinum blonde hair, one green eye and one blue eye. His energy is glowing; he is overwhelmed with pride to be standing in front of General Hux, is eager to prove his worth and feels something akin to infatuation for the General. He put himself in the front purposefully.

“You,” Hux says gently.

The blonde young man makes eye-contact with Hux and his eyes positively sparkle at Hux's recognition of him.

Kylo immediately despises him.

“Sir,” the officer replies.

“What is your name and rank?”

“I am First Lieutenant Naos Haas, sir.”

Hux’s brows spring at Naos. He glances to Captain Phasma and says, “goodness, Captain. Finally, someone on this ship close in rank to you.”

Captain Phasma doesn’t answer, but Kylo doesn’t feel any resentment coming from her; rather, she feels almost playful. Glad for Naos, even. She is interested in speaking to Naos about his academic achievements later, if Hux so chooses to keep him on board.

“Graduating the Academy a First Lieutenant is no small achievement,” Hux comments, stepping down from the deck so he can come closer to Naos.

Naos is reveling in Hux’s attention, his heart is beating fast, he wants to flatter the General but won’t speak out of turn.

Kylo grips the hilt of his lightsaber. No one notices.

“Tell me, First Lieutenant Haas,” Hux starts easily, “what are your areas of expertise and can you make yourself useful to me?”

“Sir, I graduated top of my class and squadron leader. My superiors have told me that I have natural leadership skills; aside from being an expert sharpshooter, my greatest abilities lie in battle strategy, piloting and technological engineering. If none of these skills are useful to you, I will acquire or become whatever I can to be of service to you.”

“Is he being honest?”

It takes a beat for Kylo to realize Hux is addressing him.

The entire room falls silent.

Hux turns slightly to face Kylo, one hand clasping his wrist behind his back and asks again, “is he?”

Kylo grits his teeth and nods.

The officers are intimidated by his mask; he is hoping Hux gives him the opportunity to show them exactly how scared of him they ought to be.

Hux nods back at him and then looks back to Naos.

“You say you’re a remarkable pilot?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are there other talented pilots in this group?”

“There is one other notable pilot in this group. Her name is Nali Vitaan.”

Hux’s eyes fix on a young female officer with violet, sparkling skin that seems to shift under different lights. Her pink eyes are straight forward, her arms are clasped tightly behind her back; she is very nervous.

“What is Nali Vitaan’s rank, First Lieutenant Haas?”

“CWO2,” Naos answers.

“Chief Warrant Officer is another fine rank. She could not have been in your squadron, though – you must have risen beyond her class quickly,” Hux’s eyes move back to Naos, “From what you know of Chief Warrant Officer Nali Vitaan, would you consider her a good leader, capable of learning the procedures required to train my stormtroopers?”

Naos pauses and Hux waits patiently.

Kylo eyes the back of Hux’s head.

 _Is this a test?_ Kylo wonders.

“Given the correct training under your watch, sir, I believe that yes, based on my knowledge of Chief Warrant Officer Nali Vitaan’s academic career and accomplishments, she might be of service to you and your troopers.”

“Do you consider yourself a good leader and capable of learning the required procedures to train my stormtroopers, First Lieutenant Haas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And of the two of you, who is the superior pilot?”

Naos answers readily, “I am, sir.”

Kylo is fascinated by the spike of hurt that comes from Nali; she is feeling betrayed and wronged.

Kylo probes her for more; she was under some impression that she and Naos were friends, or something close to. It is true that Naos rose in rank so quickly, their time as classmates was brief, but they spent what recreational time they had together and have suffered through much together. She trusted him. She believes she is the better pilot between them and she trusted Naos to tell Hux this; they are both fanatic over General Hux, it would seem.

It is unclear to Kylo whether or not Naos really believes he is the better pilot; all he can sense from Naos is flattered pride at being the chosen pupil to converse with General Hux and a feeling of righteousness.

Kylo wonders if Hux knew the nature of Naos and Nali’s alliance before asking anything at all.

“At ease, First Lieutenant Haas.”

Naos relaxes his shoulders, brings his feet together and looks calmly into Hux’s eyes.

Hux smiles at Naos and Kylo seethes.

_General Hux is so beautiful up close, so **powerful**. I want him to sense that I will do anything for him. Choose me. **Choose me**. I am ready to serve. I want to serve you._

Ready to humiliate Naos, Kylo opens his mouth to curse something obscene about his loud thoughts on Hux, but before he can, Hux asks Naos, “would you be comfortable with me calling you Haas?”

“Yes,” Naos answers, expression openly reverent, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hux replies, tilting his head and leaning in just a little closer to better look into Naos’ eyes, “you are entirely human, Haas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The color of my hair was brought to my attention on almost a daily basis when I was at the Academy,” Hux begins, seemingly speaking only to Naos, “Someone always had something uncouth or useless to say about it. Small-minded teasing that I presume they meant to intimidate me with. I’m certain you have heard more than your fair share of comments on the state of your eyes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“This abnormality is called heterochromia iridum,” Hux tells him, uncaring if he knows this already or not, “Only one percent of the human population is known to be effected by it. Two percent of the human population has the genetic code for my hair color – as rare a specimen I know myself to be, you are even more so, Haas.”

Naos’ pale face is growing pink and he looks like he might faint. It is now, in this moment, that Kylo realizes Hux isn't blind to it, but hyperaware of Naos’ fixation with him and is using it to tease him.

Kylo’s grip on his lightsaber doesn’t loosen. He really only feels more confused.

“Rare humans like us must stay together, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir,” Naos answers excitedly.

Hux places a broad hand on Naos’ shoulder and says, “come stand next to me, Haas. I invite you to be First Lieutenant of the ship _Aurora_ and to work for me, directly.”

Hux turns on his heel, steps back up onto the observation deck and waits with an eerie smile for Naos to walk up beside him; Naos suppressing a grin. Hux looks out onto the other eleven officers, his smile falling away and asks, “Haas. I want your honest opinion – and the dramatically cloaked fellow to our left will know if you are dishonest, so do not test me.”

Naos looks to Kylo and Kylo sends him a wave of possessive fury that pales the proud pink in his cheeks. His expression loses its lightness and wonderment, but he only looks more determined. Staring blankly into the shadowed space he is assuming Kylo’s eyes are.

“I would never dream of lying to you, General.”

“That’s a very good answer,” Hux tells him, “Of the remaining eleven graduates standing before us, I would like for you to tell me the six worth keeping. I am putting my trust in you, Haas.”

Naos looks to Hux and Hux, though his expression is easy, his voice is heavy with meaning.

“You seem to know your peers well, their strengths and faults – much better than I could possibly know upon just meeting them. So, give me six names you deem worthy of working on our ship and under my order and be prepared to take responsibility for their performances.”

The use of the phrase “our ship,” has a visible, physical effect on Naos. Kylo doesn’t move his head, but shifts his eyes to Captain Phasma, wondering if she is as lost as he is on this interaction. Her aura gives nothing away, though, and her thoughts are well-protected.

Naos holds Hux’s stare for a few beats, then looks back to the officers now a few feet below him. He takes a deep breath and says first, “Warrant Officer Jardom Gillash.”

A dark-skinned human man steps forward and stands at attention.

“Chief Warrant Officer Madyaman Timpbra.”

“Zeltron,” Hux remarks as the woman steps up.

Her skin is bright pink, her hair a dark blue and she is, objectively, very attractive. Hux looks at Naos and asks, “you're quite sure the abilities of her race have not swayed you into believing she might be more competent than she really is?”

“Chief Warrant Officer Madyaman Timpbra is a talented strategist and her allegiance to the First Order is unwavering. As I have known her, she is a walking calculator; very mathematically inclined, unbiased and willing to go above and beyond the call of duty. She would be an asset to you, General Hux. I am sure of it.”

Hux assesses her, then gestures for Naos to continue.

Of the four other names he calls, Nali is not one of them.

Kylo can feel her rage from across the floor.

Hux looks down at the six graduates and says, “congratulations. You will be adhering to my rule, but your gratitude should be directed to your First Lieutenant. Captain Phasma will show you all to your quarters. Unpack your belongings, set your rooms as you please and ready yourself for station assignments in the next cycle.”

Captain Phasma salutes General Hux, then begins walking down a corridor to the left, passing Kylo as he stands staring at Hux’s profile on the deck. Hux has stopped Naos from following the rest.

“If there is one more name you would like to call, Haas, you may do that at this time.”

Naos does not look in the direction of the remaining officers.

“I promise I have named all those worthy of being under your direct order and supervision, General Hux.”

“Very well,” Hux says with a smile, “Come to my office in five standard hours. I will be ending the work day and would like to pick your brain over dinner, Haas. Congratulations on graduation and welcome to _Aurora_.”

Naos blushes again, smiles, and salutes before following the line of officers down the corridor. Hux steps down from the platform of the deck and tells the stormtroopers standing by to escort the remaining graduates back onto their travel pod and to send them back to the Academy with his regards and gratitude.

Hux gives no backward glance, though Kylo’s eyes struggle to leave Nali’s rigid back.

_You were worthy._

Nali twists around, eyes bright pink and wide. She looks directly at Kylo and he nods to her.

_This is all I have ever wanted…_

She thinks this very clearly, though she seems unsure if Kylo will actually hear her thought.

“I want Nali Vitaan.”

Hux halts and turns, a knowing glint in his sharp blue eyes.

“For what purpose, Kylo Ren?”

“She is useful. She has drilling background. Perhaps under her watchful eye, you will not produce more traitors.”

“There was _one_ traitor,” Hux snarls, storming up to Kylo, “ _One_.”

“Then I believe Warrant Officer Vitaan can take that ‘one’ to a ‘zero.’ Keep her on board.”

“What authority do you think –"

“Keep her on board, _Co-Commander_.”

Hux’s mouth promptly shuts and he glares deeply into the shadow of Kylo’s helmet.

“Front and center, Officer Vitaan.”

Hux doesn’t move his furious eyes from Kylo for a long moment. When he does, Nali stands at attention under his scrutiny. He looks upon her more cruelly than any of the other officers and Kylo cannot understand what he is doing.

“You want to train my troopers, Officer Vitaan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want to work aboard the _Aurora_ and under my command?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hux’s expression instantly relaxes and he nearly whispers, “then tell me something, Warrant Officer Nali Vitaan.”

She dares to look up into Hux’s eyes and while her fanatic love for him is still intense, she is fearful of him, having just seen his mood swing so violently.

“You are standing in front of Lord Kylo Ren, a powerful Force user. He can detect dishonesty and he will tell me if you are even a modicum unsure of your answer. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Between yourself and First Lieutenant Naos Haas, who is the better pilot?”

Her eyes turn cold and she responds readily, “ _I_ am, sir.”

Hux turns his head to Kylo and Kylo nods to him; she appears to be telling the truth. He turns back to Nali and says, “I don’t have a room ready for an eighth officer.”

She nearly deflates, but Hux gives her pleasant chills instead by smiling at her as he did Naos and telling her, “I suppose you will just have to stay with Captain Phasma until we can arrange private quarters for you tomorrow.”

She cannot seem to hold back her glee; her pink eyes water, her smile is unable to be tamped down and she nods to him, speech unattainable.

“Congratulations on graduation, Warrant Officer Vitaan, and welcome to _Aurora_.”

He offers his hand to shake, which she takes and Kylo can feel the joy radiating off of her.

Hux smiles even more broadly when letting go, saying, “a firm handshake too. I have a good feeling about you, Warrant Officer Vitaan.”

He looks up to two stormtroopers standing guard at one of the entryways to the observation deck.

“You two – get her bags from the travel pod, show her to Captain Phasma's quarters and alert Captain Phasma that she has a new apprentice.”

Kylo is unsure of what he’s just seen transpire.

Nali is visibly shaking, so full of palpable relief, gratitude and happiness. The rest of the students dejectedly leave the observation deck and once she is lead away by the troopers, Kylo turns to Hux.

“What have you done? Is this some sort of tactic?”

Hux’s plastic smile is wiped from his face instantly and he says, “of course it is, you dunce. Everything I do is strategized. Remember that time I told you I was a genius strategist? That comes into play a lot, being General and all.”

He leaves the observation deck, headed down one of the halls, clearly ready for whatever conference he has scheduled next and Kylo follows after him.

“What was the point of all of that? You could tell Naos wanted your favor. Nali was clearly a valuable asset and he named a _human calculator_ before choosing her?”

“First of all,” Hux says, pulling a holopad out from his jacket pocket, “there is much to be said for a talented mathematician, she will do well where I’m assigning her. Yes, it is obvious Haas wants my favor and he did not want Nali to have it.”

“You were going to send her off.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

Kylo stops in his tracks.

“What do you mean?”

Hux, still a few steps ahead, turns to Kylo, looking unimpressed.

“What? You think you’re too brooding and mysterious for me to figure you out?”

Kylo doesn’t dignify that with a response.

“There is always someone in the group – sometimes more than one – that will use whatever social status they can to rise above their peers. I’m allowing Haas to believe that we have a shared brotherhood – that we have known similar struggles, that he is special as I am, that he has earned my respect without even providing evidence that he can follow a simple order all because we have some physical abnormality in common.”

“Nali is short, female, humanoid and might be just as competent as Haas, but just by looking at her, I know she has done triple the work for a quarter of the recognition. Haas is a white, human man – he has not known her struggles. Her passion for the First Order and to work for me is driven by something more powerful than Haas’ pride. It is driven by the desire to prove herself.”

Hux tilts his head, “one doesn’t have to be a Force user to read people. I know who is useful to me and who is not; Haas’ choices were all those that I would have made but for Nali. Clearly, that was personal. You see yourself in Nali and her rejection. I knew you wouldn’t allow me to send her back to the Academy because you would perceive it as a personal slight.”

Kylo stiffens, an angry flush coming to his hidden face.

“Again, she is forced to prove herself more so than her peers, to feel the sting of my rejection before the salve of my acceptance – she and Haas will be fighting for my favor and I encourage healthy competition among my army. No one will believe Nali’s story – they will think she begged for or otherwise manipulated me for her place on _Aurora_. That’s why it was important for everyone to have gone to their quarters already.”

“You isolated her on purpose? So that her classmates will think she is _lying_?”

“Yes,” Hux answers, “Haas will undoubtedly be supported by those he chose – they are indebted to him and I have seen to it that they think they should be. Nali has proven to me that she is willing and able to detach emotionally from her peers by her admittance that she is the better pilot. Both Nali and Haas have great promise and potential; Nali more than Haas, only because she knows the true meaning of hard work. Ostracized, she will learn independence and under Captain Phasma’s guide, she will become a force to be reckoned with. Haas will follow any order I give him and his sense of responsibility over the choice in his peers will put undeniable pressure on him – a pressure he will do well under. If his pride doesn’t get in his way, I may groom him myself. Take him as my own apprentice.”

“Out of those twelve graduates, there are two that are truly remarkable and one will likely rise above the other. Both are useful to me for that reason, but only if they are in competition and impassioned. Watch Nali Vitaan rise in the ranks the next six standard months – favoritism only works if you know how to wield it. And I do.”

“You’ve set a fire between two people that thought they were friends,” Kylo says flatly, unsure of what it means.

“A fire they don’t realize is set and certainly they won’t realize was set by me.”

Kylo has no response and Hux smirks at him before turning around, tapping on his holopad. He says conversationally, “what was it you said, Kylo Ren? That the devil’s greatest deception was convincing the world he did not exist?”

_And who is the devil now?_

Hux laughs coldly, turning around a corner and out of Kylo’s sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> villainyforbeginners on Tumblr, Lan, is the talented and incredible angel that gifted me this portrait of Nali! / i weEP/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More children fighting for approval! Parallels!! Symbolism!! Analogies!! Oh my!
> 
> No trigger warnings for this, aside from the fact that there is a physical fight between Haas and Nali. 
> 
> The move described in detail is used in wrestling, if you'd like to view it, it's easily Googled. It's called a high crotch to back arch. It's pretty bad ass.

“I have been forced to send the other Knights on this mission. You are not properly healed and it would be a disservice to have you die before you’ve reached your full potential.”

A disservice to whom isn’t specified, but Kylo thinks it doesn’t have to be.

“We will complete your training soon, Kylo Ren. Do not grow so restless.”

There is nothing to gain in expressing how absolutely meaningless it is to tell Kylo _not_ to _feel_ something. The whole problem – the whole problem his _entire life_ – has been that he feels something and feels something too deeply. He can’t escape it or erase it, can't control it or tamp it down, can't cap it, can't objective and he certainly can't just _stop_.

 _Yet_ , Snoke says to him through the Force, _This battle of Light and Dark in you will end as all things end._

Kylo nods without really believing Snoke.

“Tell me about the visions of Han Solo you’ve had, Kylo Ren.”

He shrinks, holding his helmet closely against his abdomen. He knows Snoke is powerful and powerful enough to know when Kylo isn't disclosing information, but it still makes him feel uneasy when Snoke announces so easily that he already knows what Kylo is hiding.

“The visions will end," Kylo answers vaguely, not wanting to talk about it.

“What do you see when you have them?”

“I sense that he was alive when he fell,” Kylo admits lowly, “He died with several regrets. I have heard him speaking to Ben Solo – conversations from decades ago. Visions of the past. I am tired of them.”

Snoke nods and leans back in his projected throne.

“There is more.”

Kylo goes to say that there is honestly not, but Snoke adds, “there is something else you are not telling me.”

Kylo doesn’t reply.

“You are keeping a particular thought hidden from me. Without being physically with you, I cannot focus enough to find it. You know it is futile to hide from me, Kylo Ren. Tell me the secret you are harboring.”

Kylo looks up to Snoke, shining, dark eyes uncertain and shamed.

“It is not meant to be... it has nothing to do with Han Solo."

"And what does this matter?"

Kylo sighs in defeat and frustration, admitting reluctantly, "...I cannot identify my feelings for General Hux. There is admiration, gratitude and animosity, fury and irritation. He saved my life by risking his own. I look upon him and I don’t know what I feel or how I _should_ feel. If he or the distraction he is causing me is standing in my way. He breaks my own focus very easily and without trying.”

“You are unfamiliar with others being willing to sacrifice themselves for you,” Snoke explains easily, “This is not uncommon, Kylo Ren. Do not fret over this confusion; it too shall pass.”

“… willing to sacrifice himself for me…” Kylo mutters to himself, looking down at his helmet, “... that is what happened, I suppose.”

Snoke’s eyes narrow and he accuses, “you want to serve General Hux personally.”

Kylo’s head snaps back up, “I feel indebted. I know this feeling is impractical, will accomplish nothing. I will cleanse myself of this desire, I swear it.”

“Calm yourself, Kylo Ren,” Snoke replies patiently with a raised, silencing hand, “You need not cleanse yourself of anything. I realize this might be hard for you to say aloud, but in my presence you can admit to me what you have thought General Hux is to you.”

Kylo hesitates.

The movie in his mind flashes images of General Hux, swearing under his breath by a destroyed control panel, General Hux walking with a purpose down a long corridor, General Hux with his palms on a table, looking over holo-blueprints, General Hux crouching over him in the snow. General Hux’s profile against the glowing Hellfire of Starkiller’s blast, General Hux’s eyes of many blues, General Hux’s gloved hand moving over a holopad, General Hux’s vibrant red hair. General Hux’s greatcoat.

“He… is an attachment.”

Kylo loathes admitting it aloud and scrambles to justify himself and rationalize the feelings, “- I will soon get rid of. I will not allow myself Earthly, ordinary attachments – I will not allow it to get in the way of my training, I swear, Master, I –"

“ _Kylo Ren_ ,” Snoke’s voice booms.

Kylo falls silent and Snoke continues more mildly, “you need not rid yourself of an Earthly attachment.”

Glancing up from under his dark lashes, Kylo furrows his brow in confusion.

“Ridding oneself of attachments,” Snoke says with disdain, “that is the way of the Jedi. You are not a Jedi. Jedi want you to go without so they can sap your power and leave you with nothing. The Dark side of the Force thrives in the wake of attachments, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo can feel his heart in his ears. He picks his head up a little more confidently.

“You mean… to be attached to the General – this is… acceptable?”

“More than acceptable,” Snoke responds eagerly, “Destroying Ben Solo and his attachments was so that Kylo Ren might be born. Kylo Ren is a wielder of the Dark Forces. What is the use of such great power if it cannot be used to serve those we feel so much for? You have a just cause to fight for that fills you with righteousness, you have suffered and that fills you with rage – passion can come from many places, Kylo Ren. Even places of confusion. If General Hux makes you feel something, even something that does not yet have a name, he is most likely useful to you. You can use this to further your powers.”

Something like childlike wonderment fills Kylo’s chest, if childlike wonderment was drenched in blood and glowing with unknowable dominance.

“So… I can… _keep_ General Hux?”

“Certainly,” Snoke tells him, “In fact – I encourage this, Kylo Ren. Seek out General Hux when I dismiss you. If General Hux can fuel you and your power, he is useful to us both.”

Kylo nods and Snoke bears an ugly smile, “go now.”

Kylo bows as the projection dies away and before the room is even cool again, he is out in the hall, making stormtroopers rigid with fear.

When Kylo finds Hux, he is on a high level of _Aurora_ , looking down at the dining hall. He has a holopad in his hand and his posture is perfect.

“What are you looking for, General?”

“Have I made mention how much I hate that fucking bucket? Because I fucking hate it.”

“Anything I can help you find?”

Hux gives him a dry look, “through the Force, I presume?”

“If I cannot find it by my eyes and hands alone, yes.”

“There is nothing to find. I am simply observing.”

“Observing what?”

Kylo, realizing the corridor is empty, removes his helmet and looks down to where Hux has been staring. There are officers in nightclothes, stormtroopers in their black undershirts; some about to go on shift, some just getting off – all stopping for a meal somewhere in the middle.

At the far end of the hall and a little to the left is a table where Haas and his peers are seated.

“Treachery afoot in the kitchen?”

Hux scowls at him and answers, “no, you fool. Watch.”

Kylo does as told and after a few moments of unremarkable movement among the crew a level down, Nali enters the dining hall alone. She is immediately identifiable by her chromatic skin and dark hair contrasting with her bright pink eyes. Both Kylo and Hux watch as Haas’ head turns from friendly conversation to the entryway of the dining hall. His expression turns dark upon finding her.

“She has been with Phasma all day and Phasma only eats two meals every cycle. I knew she would be starving. As soon as Phasma told me she released her, I saw to it to send Haas and the others to the hall.”

Another strategic, psychological battle, then. Kylo doesn’t remark on it.

“Make yourself useful, Ren,” Hux starts, typing something into the holopad, “tell me what the energies are like down there – what is transpiring between those two right now.”

Kylo breathes in deeply once and then spreads his mind like a multitude of crawling fingers splaying out from a single hand. They expand down the walls, turn to liquid on the floor, spreading from corner to corner and then rising like a gas above the heads of the tallest officers.

He hovers above the chosen graduates, though they are still several yards apart from one another.

Haas is feeling caught off guard. He did a double-take when he saw Nali walk in. He is emanating rage, but there is more beneath it; he is confused, he does not understand why or how she is here, he doesn’t know which behooves him more – to invite her to sit with them or sentence her to social exile.

He is not going to treat her well and he can’t seem to help it. Hux will be disappointed in this; Hux would probably tell a pupil to play nice, if it will play to their advantage later. Then again, Hux did say that he couldn’t tell if Haas’ pride would get in his own way or not. Kylo imagines that this is what it means – to have one’s pride get in their way.

Nali is worried, anxious, but proud and satisfied to see rage in Haas’ face. She means to walk by his table to get her food and she does not mean to start a confrontation, but Haas shouts at her as she passes.

“What did he just say to her?” Hux asks.

“He said, ‘what have you done?’” Kylo answers as the two argue below, “She is playing dumb, feigning innocence more than is necessary – he is growing frustrated with her. Now, he is implying she has done something treasonous to be taken aboard _Aurora_ and there are three people at his table that do not want to alienate Nali but are willing to if Haas so tells them to.”

“Very good,” Hux says, typing furiously, “Keep going.”

“She is defending herself, telling him that after they were escorted away –"

_“Lord Kylo Ren told me I was **worthy** and General Hux **trusts him**. General Hux trusts **me** for the faith he has in Lord Kylo Ren. General Hux believes I am worthy. They **both** do.”_

_“Nonsense! You think that dark **monk** has any influence over a man of such **real** power? General Hux explicitly said he put his trust in **me** and if I did not choose you, which I **didn’t** , he would not choose you either!”_

_“Oh? If that’s so, then why am **I** Captain Phasma’s new apprentice?”_

Haas leaps from his seat then and charges at Nali; no one intervenes as they come to blows.

Kylo looks over to Hux, who looks entirely unbothered and unsurprised.

“They are fighting over me, yes?”

“Yes,” Kylo confesses.

“Perfect.”

“Are you going to have anyone break them up?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Hux laughs in that cold, removed way again, “I am eager to see what they will do. I am sure Nali is the better pilot and I am fascinated to see next who is the better fighter in hand-to-hand combat.”

Kylo looks down into the dining hall again and watches their fight advance.

He is loath to admit it, but Hux was right; Kylo does see himself in Nali.

He wants to aid her but is unsure how to. He despises Haas; has from the moment he saw Haas. Nali should be the rightful leader of the graduates; the one being taken under Hux’s coveted wing. He is so positive she would thrive under Hux’s guidance – Hux could mold Nali into something incredible, Kylo is sure of it.

Hux clicks his tongue in disapproval and mutters to himself, “swipe the feet, Nali. He is taller than you – you have a lower center of gravity. Use it to your advantage.”

 _Interesting_ , Kylo thinks, that Hux, a tall gentleman would take note of something like that; then again, it’s not surprising when he thinks on it longer than a moment. Hux is tall and so in a ring, his enemies are those who are taller than him and those who are shorter. He must know well the weaknesses and strengths of both.

Kylo wonders, not for the first time, if General Hux would be helpful in training with his lightsaber. He imagines General Hux is as strategic in hand-to-hand combat as he is in all other subjects of his life and might provide a genuine challenge in a saber battle. He wonders what General Hux’s choice of weapon is.

Kylo focuses on Nali again – if Hux will not bestow his wisdom, Kylo will pass it on.

_Swipe his feet, Nali. Use your height to your advantage._

She is just falling away from a blow to her jaw when she glances around, looking for Kylo. Haas lands another punch to her ribs while she is distracted.

_Do not look for me, just do as I say._

She nods, as if he is in front of her. She dodges a left hook and swipes her right foot across the floor, knocking Haas over and turning it into a ground fight. This appears more to be her strength; the fight escalates in intensity.

The struggle for dominance goes on for a long few seconds.

“Hux, how tall are you?”

“I’m just an inch over six feet.”

“Strange.”

“What?” Hux asks, turning to look at him.

“Just that I only have two inches of height over you. It feels like more.”

Hux sneers and rolls his eyes, “shut up.”

Kylo follows the order, but allows himself a small smile before turning back to the fight at hand.

When Haas has her beneath him and is choking her, Kylo gives a one-sided glance to Hux, but the General is only watching on indifferently.

Hux is not going to help her.

Or he is counting on Kylo to help her.

_Hux is watching you, Nali. He has faith in you. He wants you to win._

**_How_** _do you know this?_ – her inner voice is loud, panicked.

_Because I am standing beside him._

_Is it glorious?_

_Haas is wrong. You are right. We do both deem you worthy of being allied with General Hux. He wants to see your strategy – he will always reward good strategy. You can do this, Nali._

“Don’t coddle her too much.”

Kylo twists his head to look at Hux. Hux is still looking down at the struggle.

“I imagine her tears are because of something sentimental or encouraging you’ve told her. Do not coddle her. I am glad for whatever you’ve said to her that's keeping her fighting, but her drive is to prove herself to _me_ , Ren. Do not misdirect her or shift her focus onto you – she is only useful to me if she feels she has to prove her worth. Tell her something that will give her that sense of purpose back.”

Kylo nods and looks back down to her.

_He is watching. Closely. Do not disappoint him._

_Never. He is my hero and idol, Lord Kylo Ren. I will die before I fail him._

“She says you are her hero and idol and she will die before she fails you.”

“Tell her that you’ve told me so and I am deeply pleased with her.”

_He is deeply pleased with you, Nali._

Even from this distance, he can see her broad, white smile break across her violet face. She slithers her legs between herself and Haas and manages to kick him off of her, the muscles in her calves bulging.

Haas is standing with knees bent, out of breath and Nali quickly comes to her own knees. She keeps her right knee on the ground, but flattens her left foot behind Haas’ right calf. Her right arm comes around Haas’ waist while the other snakes up his thigh, clasping tightly. In one fell swoop, she stands, lifting Haas off the ground and arching her own back, throwing him backwards and then releasing him.

He lands hard on his tailbone, smacking the metal floor with a resounding thud and Nali uses the rest of her momentum to throw her own body upright again. She is breathless, the tears from before are just tracks left at the corners of her eyes now and as she stands over Haas, Kylo hears her tell him, “Hux is watching.”

Haas scrambles to his feet, defensive and alert again. Both of them look done, though.

“Impressive,” Hux notes, closing his holopad and stuffing it into his jacket, “Once she is entirely emotionally disengaged from Haas, I’m sure her fights will be cleaner and end more quickly.”

“Would you care to spar, Hux?”

Hux cocks a brow at him, “what, these children trying to kill each other bringing back fond memories of your younger years or something?”

Kylo doesn’t allow himself to be effected by that.

“It has only occurred to me that I have never seen you fight.”

“You’re practically an invalid,” Hux points out, gesturing to Kylo’s injured waist, “I’m not going to spar with you.”

“It will do me good, Hux. I would be grateful for the practice. We can leave hand-to-hand combat for another time, if it eases your conscience. We can use whatever weapon you please.”

“You’ll know what to do with a sword?”

 _Sword?_ Kylo thinks wondrously; that is a befitting weapon for Hux. He should have known.

“I can’t imagine it’s much different than a saber but for it’s lightness.”

Hux eyes him suspiciously.

“You think you’re going to win.”

“Not at all, General,” Kylo replies, “I _know_ I am.”

Hux crosses his arms.

“Fine. On the second to last level of the ship, I have a room suited for training. Wear something you can better move in. I will be down there in thirty minutes.”

With that, Hux leaves and Kylo looks down at the crew resuming their meals. Nali is still looking for him somewhere in the room; it does not occur to her to look up, but even if she did, Kylo gets the feeling that these windows are only one way.

_Are you out there, Lord Kylo Ren?_

_I am._

_Am I… using the Force?_

_No. I am using the Force to communicate directly to your mind._

_Is General Hux proud?_

Kylo smiles. It’s small and he’s not sure why the joy is there. It is a faint glow that will vanish soon. He knows this, but cherishes it while it is there all the same.

_He is more than proud of you, Nali. He is **impressed**._

He feels elation flood her and she is thanking him and Hux over and over like a mantra.

_You did well. Operate as though the General is always watching. Odds are, he is._

_Or you, I suppose?_

_I serve our Supreme Leader as he is my Master. I serve the First Order as I am commanded to. I serve General Hux because he very nearly sacrificed his life to save my own; he does not feel that I am indebted to him, but I am sure you understand my loyalties._

_How could I not? Is it glorious, Lord Kylo Ren? To be in General Hux’s favor?_

Kylo gives pause and sends her, most honestly:

_I would not know._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter. A shit ton of foreshadowing, meta, character study and parallels, though. There's honestly so much going on in this chapter, to write all the notes I could on it would just be a whole other chapter lol.  
> Hope you enjoy the update!

Kylo has never seen General Hux out of uniform.

It’s nearly disturbing at first; sort of like seeing an Eopie on its hind legs. Sure, logically you could assume before having seen it that the Eopie was capable of balancing on its hind legs, but seeing it is still bizarre.

Hux is on the matted floor, stretching; he’s wearing what look like old, leather combat boots, possibly from the Academy. They’re tied tightly, partway up his calf, and there are dark grey, patternless battle rip uniform pants cuffed into them – they don’t cling at all, but without the flair of his usual uniform pants, Hux’s thighs look thin and long. Much like the rest of him. He looks taller – his legs look longer this way.

He has a black belt through the loops of these more casual trousers, a black undershirt and nothing else.

“Suspenders?” Hux asks with a smirk, “Really?”

Kylo glances down at himself; all he did was shed his top layers. His pants are black as his boots and his undershirt and suspenders. He shrugs and replies, “they’re practical.”

“ _Ha_!” Hux enunciates sharply, “Kylo Ren, in want for practicality? In his _wardrobe_ , no less? I dare say I’ve seen just about everything now.”

One entire wall of the gym is a mirror; there are several punching bags hanging toward the back of the room, where Kylo has entered from. He watches as Hux gets to his feet and unsheathes a glistening rapier – a brass crown basket rapier, all shining carbon steel and a beautiful handle of red and black leather. All rapiers Kylo has seen in the past have been decorative – this one looks more like a proper sword, though. It is very clearly sharpened, meant to do harm and it glints under the gym lights like a silver fang.

Beside it is another sheathed weapon, which Hux tosses at him. He catches it easily and drops the sheath to the ground without care. It’s a scholar’s sword with a black and silver handle. It’s sharp, still lighter than his lightsaber but as long as Hux’s rapier. Less elegant, but it has the same width and amount of blade to it.

“I thought you’d appreciate its likeness to your lightsaber.”

Kylo glances up at Hux briefly; he is standing evenly, at ease, his rapier in his left hand, point digging into the mat of the floor. His expression is hard to define; loose, a little. Not like he’s looking for Kylo’s approval or even gratitude from Kylo that he thought of Kylo’s preferences at all before choosing a weapon for him.

Kylo stares at Hux, mostly forgetting the sword in his hands. He feels for Hux’s energy.

He can sense that Hux is still vaguely worried about this; not that he will lose, but that he will open Kylo’s healing wounds. Kylo can sense it has been a long time since Hux has used this rapier, but by how it glimmers and shines, he knows Hux must keep it in sight in his personal quarters; he must take great pride in it.

“Were you awarded that rapier?”

“I was,” Hux answers, not looking away from Kylo’s face, “When I was promoted to Brigadier General. About five standard years ago.”

“It took you only five standard years to rise four times in rank?”

“Before the _Finalizer_ , I had an office aboard Major General Croeta’s ship, _Juno_. I had been working on the design for the _Starkiller_ since my Academy days, but while aboard _Juno_ , I designed and supervised the production of many ships, weapons, and lead several very successful battles. I rose _four_ times in rank in as many standard years.”

Hux is not the sort for small talk – this is not to say Kylo knows Hux well enough as a person to know this about him, but it would fit into his character. He never stalls, never takes time off, never wastes working hours.

In fact, the only exception to that fact that Kylo is aware of is the instance that Hux allowed himself to be dragged away by Kylo to be shown an illusion.

Kylo has never heard of the ship _Juno_ or Major General Croeta. None of this is remarkable to him – the fact that Hux is interested, though, in freely sharing this information is gripping.

“What is your first name, Hux?”

Hux’s neutral, even vaguely open expression turns to a guarded scowl.

“None of your concern.”

“It starts with an ‘A,’ I have learned.”

“And you have learned this from who, exactly?” Hux demands to know, as if he is about to have this person hanged.

“One of the officers on the observation deck the other day, upon seeing you, he recalled seeing your holoportrait in the trophy hall of the Academy. The engraved plate beneath it reads ‘General A. Hux.’’

“Do you _ever_ spend any time in your _own_ head?” Hux asks exhaustedly.

“You do realize that the bigger a secret you make this, the more interested I am in finding out what it is and why you keep it such a secret?”

Hux scoffs and picks up his rapier, examining the blade as if looking at Kylo has become boring.

“It is not some childish _secret_ ,” Hux sneers with disdain, “I can’t imagine you would appreciate me calling you by _your_ birth name.”

Kylo doesn’t even blink.

“My birth name is Kylo Ren.”

Hux looks up at him and cocks a brow.

“I was born the day Ben Solo died. If you are thinking I, in any way, bear that name – you are mistaken.”

Intrigue crosses Hux’s features for a fleeting moment, but then he shakes his head and announces, “enough of this – stop asking me for my name. It is particularly annoying in that I know you could just take the information from my brain if you so desired. You don’t have to taunt me with a false sense of security or control.”

“This sense is not false,” Kylo says earnestly, stepping toward Hux; he notes that Hux stiffens with anxiety when he comes closer, “I have not invaded your mind purposefully, Hux. I want you to trust me. I will not force information from you. I only want to serve you, Hux.”

Kylo is engrossed in watching the rosy color fill up Hux’s cheekbones and ears. He thinks to himself that Hux’s hair is very bright, very vivid and well groomed – it shines beautifully even under these harsh lights. Based on what Hux said in regard to his own hair color the work cycle before, Kylo decides it’s best not to mention that he admires it in particular for it’s vibrant color.

“You do not serve me, Ren,” Hux reaffirms seriously, “I… whatever bizarre offer you made me – I never agreed to it.”

“I know,” Kylo replies, “I don't pretend to understand why you would reject my services, but I am nothing if not determined.”

“If by ‘determined,’ you mean ‘annoyingly and inexorably persistent as a migraine,’ then I tend to agree with you.”

“Are you plagued with migraines, Hux?”

Hux is clearly bothered that his slights against Kylo garner no reactions. Like most great rewards, Kylo is sure that to obtain General Hux, he will require patience. It is not a virtue he is known for, but he is willing to practice at it to have General Hux beside him as a true equal – someone he protects with his life, as Hux has for him already. In how Kylo has been taught and in how he has lived, it is shameful of him to walk about, living and breathing, indebted to someone who refuses to let him repay the debt.

“I get them on occasion,” Hux mutters.

“You’ve one right now, don’t you?” Kylo asks.

Hux shakes his head, “it is only starting. It will grow. This is merely a mild headache.”

Kylo crosses the space between them to stand three feet before Hux. He looks down at Hux, admires his eyes for a few beats and then asks, “may I help you with that?”

“My headache?”

“I told you the Dark side of the Force can heal.”

“You said heal mortal wounds, this is hardly –"

“I can make the pain stop,” Kylo interrupts plainly.

There are a few seconds of silence and then Kylo asks softly, “will you let me?”

Something foreign and positively tragic passes through Hux’s eyes; like a memory reignited crossing the screen of his frontal lobe.

It is significant.

Whatever Kylo just said woke something up in Hux's mind and it's troubling as much as it is fascinating.

Hux blinks a few times, clearing away the foggy emotion as best he can. Kylo knows that if he spreads himself into Hux’s mind now, he could see what that question brought up for Hux – perhaps witness a memory or feel whatever desperate, unidentifiable emotion passed through his eyes. He doesn’t, though. He promised he wouldn't. He's practicing patience.

“You won’t go snooping around in there?”

“Lean your head back and shut your eyes.”

Hux hesitates a moment before obeying, but eventually he does. Kylo drops his weapon and raises his right hand to Hux’s left temple. His hand is big and his fingers long; they spread into Hux’s hair and Kylo is a bit caught off guard by how soft it feels. Thick, and as though there is much of it, but not hard with hair product or stiff. Just soft. Strangely soft.

He looks down at Hux’s shut eyes and examines the faint, opaque color of his lashes. They are long lashes and thick too, as the hair on his head is. They are so light in color, it inexplicably reminds Kylo of frosted glass. His thumb presses into Hux’s cheekbone and just the tip of his thumb brushes those lashes.

This is more intimate than he had first thought it would be.

Hux is trusting him.

Hux now knows better than most that Kylo has the power to unravel him from the inside out, to twist and destroy his mind within the blink of an eye. Kylo has instructed him to release control to him – to shut his eyes and, without saying it out loud, put his faith into Kylo.

Hux is trusting that Kylo will not harm him.

Why this warms Kylo, he is unsure yet. The feelings growing like a mold in him when he looks upon Hux are still battling, contradictory and confusing. Still without a name. This image of Hux, eyes shut, hair soft and lashes pale will haunt him. He feels sure of that. He is having a hard time understanding why, though.

“You will feel a coolness. Do not move away from it. I will tell you when I am through and you can open your eyes.”

“Very well,” Hux replies without moving his head.

Kylo shuts his own eyes and seeks out the ailment – it’s starting in the left hemisphere. It is tight and burning and left alone, it will grow like a cancer and pulsate with a blinding light that will nauseate and cripple Hux. Kylo senses that Hux’s migraines drive him to illness at times. He does not stop working when illness strikes him. Even after being ill, the migraines persist.

Vowing to pay more attention to Hux’s physical wellness in the future, Kylo focuses on soothing away the current pain and he can tell when the cool sensation hits Hux because he intakes sharply.

“Do not move away.”

“I won’t – I’m not,” Hux answers hurriedly, sounding nervous.

“Relax, my dear General,” Kylo smirks, “You are safe in my hands.”

He cannot see Hux’s expression, but he doesn’t feel Hux’s face move under his hand so there might not be a change of expression to read. He only hears Hux swallow loudly and he notes that Hux’s heart is beating at forty-six beats per minute now.

“Tell me when you feel relieved, Hux.”

“I am – I do. I… I feel fine now.”

It is empowering to fluster General Hux.

He is so perfect and usually so unshakeable – that Kylo’s powers might frighten Hux fills him with just as much sadness as it does pride. Such strange combinations, Hux's company offers him.

He removes his hand slowly and opens his eyes in time with Hux’s. They are standing very close together and Kylo, unsure why he is possessed to say it, announces, “you look good – dressed down, Hux.”

That color floods his cheeks, ears and neck again. It’s fascinating to watch. Kylo has never known his own body to show such signs of emotional spike unless it is in anger, but he doesn’t sense any anger from Hux.

“Are you well enough to spar, now, Hux?”

Hux blinks a few times, as if he’s forgotten where or who he is. He gives a short shake of his head, as if rebooting. He grips the rapier more tightly and proclaims, “certainly. I, unlike you, know how to put my focus outside of pain. I was ready before and am ready now. Are _you_ prepared for a devastating loss?”

Kylo smirks and picks up his sword, “your pride is about to be severely wounded, General.”

“ _Hmph_ ,” Hux sounds, playfully unimpressed, “I have my doubts.”

They don’t waste anymore time; they separate by a few more feet and take appropriate positions for their respective weapons. Kylo leans most of his weight back on his left foot and keeps his arms somewhat high, his elbows in and both hands around the hilt of his sword.

Hux stands with most of his weight on his right foot, leaning forward with his right hand behind his back. Kylo thinks to himself that Hux will quickly need to adjust his expectations – he will want both hands on his rapier once Kylo comes after him.

“We should set a wager,” Hux says suddenly, “to fight for nothing is a waste of energy. What should we wager?”

 _Is this how friends speak to one another_ , Kylo thinks treasonously.

He immediately banishes the thought and then replies, “if I win, you tell me your first name.”

Hux rolls his eyes, “and _when_ **_I_** win, I demand a thorough explanation for why you’re so bloody set on acquiring me like an antique.”

They both nod in agreement and fall into motion.

Their blades meet in harmony every single time, as if it were rehearsed – Hux’s control and strength is at his core. Aiming for his middle proves fairly useless, though. Hux meets him blow for blow and it’s ferociously riveting as it is vexatious.

Hux moves with an agility and grace Kylo didn’t know he possessed – it is not militant. It is unlike the way he walks and speaks – it is majestic, in a way.

Leia once forced Ben to sit through a ballet and Hux’s movements are reminiscent of the dancers Ben saw. There is more flexibility, though, a willingness to bend and acclimate, more agile strength behind every motion. Kylo thinks that watching Hux like this is much more entertaining than any dancers.

Kylo doesn’t hold back from Hux, that would be an insult – he starts at a moderate pace, but speeds up the more he realizes Hux is predicting his movements. When that idea forms, it almost seems silly or naïve to challenge Hux at all. He is a strategic genius, after all. At the angle of Kylo’s shoulders and waist, the movement and positioning of his legs and feet, Hux foresees the move about to be made and blocks it before it occurs to Kylo that he’s given anything away at all.

The sound of their swords meeting time and again is all that echoes against the long walls – neither are short of breath and Kylo is pleased to sense Hux’s heart beating steadily at forty beats per minute.

“You keep your heart at such a low rate,” Kylo notes, “Does nothing rattle you? How do you manage it?”

“Do not mistake composure for ease, Ren,” Hux replies, their swords clicking thrice in the time it takes him to finish, “I trained my heart – it was once said in front of me ‘never let them see you sweat,’ and it effected me deeply.”

“Clearly,” Kylo comments drily.

“Terror is fast moving venom,” Hux explains, their swords meeting again, “If bitten by a venomous creature, you want your heart rate to remain slow, so that the poison won’t spread so quickly. So that you have more time to live or find aid – the faster your heart, the faster the poison spreads. That is what fear does to a man. It is maladaptive and counterproductive.”

“Do you never feel fear, then?”

“Again, Ren – you must _listen_.”

They pause, their faces rather close where their swords are pushing against one another, “do not mistake _composure_ for _ease_.”

They fall away from one another and circle each other while Kylo asks, “so, it is a front? Perhaps you feel doubt about our arrangement here, but your heart’s stillness and the stoicism of your face is meant to fool me into believing there is no doubt to be detected?”

“I do not feel doubt about this sparring,” Hux replies, “but everything else you said is close enough to the truth. Think of my composure as one of your illusions.”

Kylo pauses and Hux does him the favor of coming to a stop as well; Kylo figures Hux would consider it ungentlemanly to use such an opening to attack.

“My composure and my unease are existing in the same place at the same time. One is in line with reality, one is an illusion painted over it.”

“You never cease to amaze me, General.”

Hux rolls his eyes; he thinks that was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“Come now – don’t keep me waiting for the big tricks, Lord Kylo Ren.”

Kylo does as is asked of him; he throws himself through the air, keeps on the toes of his feet, spins to distract and disarm Hux, but it doesn’t work. Hux does seem engaged, though, bordering on enthusiastic.

“I didn’t know you had grace in you, Ren.”

Kylo’s heart throbs in that bizarre way again.

“You wound me, Hux.”

Hux gives a breathy, forced laugh and promises, “not yet.”

Their swords meet more times than Kylo cares to keep count of and at some point, he says, “I admit, you are more talented in a fight than I thought you’d be.”

“Always underestimating me,” Hux chides.

“Do you do that on purpose? The composure – is that what it is? Do you tone your body to look slimmer so that people will not foresee your strength? Do you speak infrequently for the purpose of fooling others into believing you think infrequently? Is all of your personality a strategy, Hux?”

“My, you catch on fast,” Hux congratulates sarcastically.

“You should take Nali Vitaan under your guide. You are superior to Captain Phasma and Nali needs to learn more strategy and control – you offer that knowledge. More so than anyone in the galaxy, I’m beginning to believe.”

Hux shakes his head, ducking when Kylo recklessly swings at his neck; he seems unbothered by the assassination attempt, though.

“Captain Phasma has bled and sweat for that title and she deserves one of more prestige. Officer Vitaan will do well under her guidance. Why are you so concerned about her?”

“Would you say you favor Captain Phasma?” Kylo deflects.

It’s apparent to both of them that Kylo is dodging the personal question, but again, Hux doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

“Yes, I would.”

Kylo’s sword slips against Hux’s blade momentarily and Hux’s brows spring up, “concentration eluding you, Ren?”

“No, I – I just didn’t expect you to be honest,” Kylo answers.

“Seems like there’s very little point in lying to someone that can tell if I am deceiving them.”

Kylo steps away again, leaving more space between them. He’s sweating a little now, around his brow and temples. Hux’s neck shines with some sweat and it forces Kylo’s eyes to notice the glint of silver hanging around his defined clavicle.

“You’ve dog tags?” Kylo asks.

Hux glances down at his chest, where the tags themselves are tucked under his shirt.

“Yes. I rarely take them off.”

“I would like for you to trust me, Hux,” Kylo redirects, thinking about how Hux’s name and blood type are engraved in what looks like real white gold, just a few feet away, “I will not force truth from you or use my abilities to collect data from your mind unwillingly. Give me an opportunity to prove that this is my honest vow to you.”

Hux’s heart was beating at forty-three beats per minute and it turns up to forty-six the moment Kylo says the word “vow.” He wonders if Hux has a history with vows.

He wonders much about Hux.

“How about this – we will play a game,” Hux begins, “one from my childhood. I will say three statements about myself. Two are true and one is a lie. Play this game without reading my energy or slipping into my mind and I will… consider your authenticity.”

“I play as well?”

“Indeed,” Hux responds readily, “It’s only fair. And I must prove to you that I am just as perceptive without being Force sensitive.”

Kylo nods, “agreed. You start.”

Hux raises his weapon again and punctuates each sentence with his blade coming down on Kylo’s, “I am thirty years old, I had my first kiss at the age of fifteen and my uniform is entirely personalized to my specific measurements.”

“You are lying about the kiss.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you would never willingly talk about such topics.”

Hux barks a laugh and replies, “fair enough. Now you.”

Kylo makes a show of a ground-type triple axle jump, landing primly, but solidly, and when his sword comes down onto Hux’s, he’s amazed to see a glitter of awe or pride in those blue eyes. He doesn’t have to use the Force to sense it.

“I use a voice modulator because I have been mocked for how low my natural voice is, I can communicate fluently with Wookiees and have once encountered a gentle Bantha in the wild.”

Hux looks begrudgingly entertained, “the Bantha one is a lie. Why did people mock your voice? And how in the world did you learn to speak the Wookiee language? I was under the impression you needed an extra diaphragm or something to speak to them.”

“I do believe it’s your turn, Hux,” Kylo responds.

Hux purses his lips, unhappy that Kylo isn’t readily answering him; Hux’s sincere interest in Kylo is giving him a sense of hope, though. There is a strange tone Kylo’s attachment is taking; one Kylo is unfamiliar with. He has a sneaking suspicion that it is leaning towards friendship; even if it is only felt by him.

“Very well,” Hux says, landing elegantly from a death drop that Kylo smiles at, openly impressed, “I was born in secrecy on an icy moon, I take after my father in looks and I’ve an older brother.”

Kylo pauses – by now both of them are short of breath. Kylo’s brow furrows.

“I… I am unsure. I… I think the lie is about the brother.”

“Well, we can’t all be winners,” Hux says playfully, whipping is rapier back into action.

Kylo blocks him successfully and asks, “then it must be the father one – the father one is the lie?”

“Yes – what is your reasoning?”

“That you gave me two family-related options was suspicious and both sounded improbable.”

“What about me taking after my father is improbable?”

“I have heard he is an imposing man.”

“And I am not?”

“No, but your features are delicate.”

Hux manages to slice an inch of hair from one of Kylo’s unruly tufts and Kylo stops again to stare wide-eyed at him.

“Delicate!” Hux shouts in outrage, “I appear delicate to you?!”

“No,” Kylo responds calmly, “Your features are softer in appearance, though.”

Hux still looks displeased.

“How so?”

Kylo shrugs and gestures at Hux’s pale arms, “your skin is very smooth and, much like your uniform, pristine. You always look freshly showered,” Kylo gestures to Hux’s face, “Your lips are very full and have color to them. You’ve long eyelashes, you have a high waist and you are…nimble. Elegant.”

Kylo wonders if Hux takes this last descriptor as a compliment; he means it to be. After this spar, he is now more aware of Hux’s innate elegance than ever.

“If made to guess, I would have guessed that you take after your mother more than your father.”

Hux is unhappy, but unable to refute, it seems.

“I do not… have a good grasp, I think, on my physical appearance.”

“It is a pleasant one.”

Hux looks at him strangely and Kylo wonders why that sentence left his mouth and how it did not pass through his head for examination before exiting.

“It’s your turn.”

Kylo nods and their swords meet again.

“I built the mask I wear, voice modulator included, I refuse to eat eggs of any kind and I have been this height since I was sixteen.”

Hux smirks a little, “what do you have against eggs, exactly?”

“That’s not the lie,” Kylo says.

“I know – you were shorter at sixteen. What is your issue with eggs?”

“I find them disgusting. The texture makes me gag.”

Hux makes a breathy snort of a laugh and Kylo finds himself smiling.

“Well, I’m so thrilled you find that entertaining, Hux,” Kylo says drily.

This morphs Hux’s face into something pinker and more open.

“You are a good fighter, Ren. It has been a long time since I sparred like this.”

“Your approval means a great deal, Hux,” Kylo replies, a downward swing of his sword being blocked, “And your time away from the sword doesn’t show at all.”

Hux does something rapid, spinning and he seems to get some air even, but then all Kylo knows is that his tailbone has hit the floor in a very unpleasant way, his sword is lying five feet away from him and the point of Hux’s rapier is gently pressing against the apple of his throat.

“You fought well. Do not destroy any ship equipment in a tantrum for having lost.”

Kylo looks up at Hux and leans his head back, feeling his hair fall against the back of his neck.

“You were holding onto that move.”

“All part of a strategy.”

“It never ends, does it?”

Hux seems to know that Kylo is referring to his never-ending strategizing.

“Afraid not.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I was enjoying the challenge,” Hux tells him honestly, “I wasn’t lying when I said you fought well. I would never let you win, anyway. My name is safe for now and _you_ owe me an explanation for all this bizarre sulking in my shadows and whatnot.”

Kylo stands and extends his arms, asking silently to hold the rapier. Hux doesn’t hesitate in giving it to him. He examines the blade and the beautiful, twining handle.

“You are… captivating, Hux.”

Hux’s heart is speeding up again, though it doesn’t show on his face. The atmosphere has shifted at some point because now Kylo doesn’t feel it’s appropriate to note the change in Hux’s heart rate out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this time we have spent together – watching you; I hoped I would learn more, leave more educated than I entered on the matter of swordsmanship, but the beauty of your movements entirely distracted me. There is very much I think you could teach me.”

“Ren…”

Kylo looks up from the blade in his hand and Hux is unreadable.

“What… what do you want from me?”

Kylo’s eyes flicker unconsciously to Hux’s throat. He fixes his eyes upon Hux’s again, but it is apparent that they both noticed and neither know what to do with it.

“I owe you my life.”

Hux very nearly appears humble, opening his mouth to argue, but Kylo interrupts him.

“I don’t care what you have to say on this matter. Whatever you say will not change how I feel and… I’m not sure what I want from you, Hux. More of your time, certainly. But other than that, I’m at as much a loss as you are. I would like to protect you. I would like for you to trust me – and to trust me as you do no other. I have grown weary of trying to hate you. There is much that I want and much I doubt I can have from you, but time… time would be a good place to start.”

It comes as a relief that Hux doesn’t bark that cold laughter in his face. He looks like he’s assessing Kylo, considering him and his words very seriously. He looks uneasy again – anxious, like a feral animal caught under a bright light.

“Tell me something honest.”

This is not a dare or a joke. Kylo searches Hux’s eyes for an explanation, but he seems just as wrong-footed as Kylo feels. Not a dare, not a joke, but closer to a test – a test to garner some proof that his intentions are honest.

“Tell me something you would tell no other.”

There is a pregnant pause and then Hux adds, “not even Snoke.”

Kylo is unsure if he can pass this test. Hux might slip through his fingers and its devastating him and he doesn’t know why. This confusion – this desire for Hux’s favor and the desire to be rid of the want for Hux’s favor is driving him mad.

“I…”

It can’t be something inconsequential. Hux will notice and he will see it as Kylo being unwilling to trust him with something that has any level of seriousness to it. Kylo looks down at the blade again.

“When I killed my… when I killed Ben Solo’s father… he fell. He was alive for a short time as he fell. I dared not read his thoughts, but I sensed that he was dying with many regrets.”

There is more silence and Kylo is uncertain he wants to see Hux’s expression when he expounds, so he continues talking to the rapier.

“I have visions of him. His death, moments of his life with Ben Solo – I hear parts of conversations. I think often of the scoundrel others described him as – he had many reasons for regret. Most of his life he spent as a criminal and lowlife. But I feel fear. Real fear – the terror you spoke of, the maladaptive, counterproductive venom – I feel it when I think that… Ben Solo’s existence was his greatest regret.”

He shakes his head a little and some hair falls over his face. His cheeks and nose feel hot and there is a burning behind his eyes.

“He had no tools to communicate with Ben. He was an adequate provider and, at times, even offered sound advice. At times. But he was often absent. Even when he was beside me.”

Kylo jumps a little and says, “ _Ben_. Ben. When he was… Ben… the boy was always uncertain of his welcome. It was as if he had intruded upon a honeymoon and while his mother was willing to acclimate to the change, his father could not. Or would not. Ben felt like a visitor in his own home, a visitor overstaying their welcome. And when his parents sent him away to train as a Jedi, it felt like confirmation. He was a regret. A sense of belonging alluded him for most of his life. His ghost haunts me, though. And it despises me for what I’ve done. For having killed the lowlife, absent criminal he once barely knew – and worse than the loathing his ghost feels inside me… he feels the rejection again. The confirmation that he never belonged. That he was never wanted – never meant to be.”

A tear falls onto the white shine of the blade in his hand and it takes a moment for Kylo to realize it’s his own.

“All Ben Solo was – ever was – was a regret. The deepest regret of a man who had thousands of regrets to choose from. And it haunts me.”

The silence that follows momentarily gives Kylo reason to believe he is alone. That Hux was never even real – that he is a ghost, he’s not there, he was never supposed to be. He shuts his eyes and throws his mind in every direction for something to latch on to.

A heart beating fifty-seven beats per minute.

He dares to look up and sees General Hux standing before him, still close and with a calculating shimmer in his eye.

“Even if this is all a strategy to you, Hux… if all I am is a pawn this cycle, it will have been more than most have deemed me.”

“I was kissed only once.”

Kylo cocks a brow.

Hux inhales but it doesn’t look like he exhales.

“I – it was someone – I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to be kissed. They kissed me, even though I had made it clear that I didn’t want that.”

“What did you do?” Kylo asks softly, as if they are children under a blanket with a flashlight, exchanging secrets.

Perhaps that’s precisely what they are.

“I killed him.”

Kylo searches Hux’s face for some sign of remorse but finds none. He decides readily that if Hux feels no sympathy for this man who died at his hands, Kylo is not inclined to feel pity for him either.

“Does that haunt you?”

“No,” Hux replies too quickly, “but it is the only kiss I have ever had. I have never kissed another person and after that experience, I always had an exit play in mind if I feared someone might try to kiss me again. I didn’t even feel embarrassed that my first kiss was stolen from me. I felt more embarrassed that I had no strategy planned in advance for the occurrence of it.”

Kylo swallows and murmurs, “I have never been kissed.”

Hux looks openly surprised by this - it's almost endearing.

“What?” Kylo asks, “That is shocking to you?”

“You… well, yes,” Hux admits, accompanied with vague hand gestures, “You are nearly thirty, you have the power to manipulate the minds of others to do your bidding – if kissing was something you wanted, you could have taken it whenever you pleased. But aside from the force and influence you have decided not to use… it is just… strange to me that no one has.”

“It’s strange to you that no one has kissed me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The pause is long and miasmic. 

Hux is hesitating.

Kylo wants to delve into his mind, but he resists the urge. Hux will feel him and this tentative treaty will be ruined.

“You are… strangely beautiful, Ren.”

Kylo’s heart thumps violently again, but then it skips and restarts, harder and faster than before. His focus is entirely on Hux’s eyes – he will think about his heart later.

“There are attributes to you that should not be handsome – you’ve big ears, pouted lips, an uneven jaw, a very angular profile… but together, somehow… when combined, it creates a very handsome man. That is why the beauty about you is strange; it is made up of parts that are asymmetrical and unconventional, but when blended – and too, with your natural voice… it is very… _you_ – _you_ are very… beautiful.”

Something pleasantly warm, peaceful and completing stretches through all of Kylo's veins.

 _Acceptance_ , Kylo realizes, heart pounding, _that is what you are feeling._

“Do you… find many things beautiful, Hux?”

“No,” Hux answers immediately; almost too quickly, like he was about to say so unprompted, “I do not find many people beautiful. There are so few that are unique to me – so few that are… well, more like you.”

There is more silence, but it is comfortable now.

“Thank you for telling me about Ben Solo,” Hux thanks lowly.

Kylo nods, “thank you for confiding in me as well.”

“I… I accept whatever… whatever arrangement you’ve had in mind,” Hux stammers, unable to make eye-contact, “This – servitude or equality or whatever bizarre marriage between the two you’ve conjured up in your head. I accept.”

Kylo's eyes light up - he can feel it.

“Would you say now that… I am in your favor?”

Clearly, Hux doesn't understand the significance of the question, but Kylo doesn't have the time or patience to explain it to him.

Hux might punch him for the sentimentality of it, alone - still, he answers.

“Yes.”

Kylo exhales deeply and dares to ask, “would you be terribly insulted if I told you that I very much like the color of your hair? I remember how you spoke on the observation deck – I do not wish to insult you. It is very beautiful.”

“I am not insulted,” Hux replies, “I find yours rather beautiful as well.”

Kylo smiles lopsidedly – it’s hidden under his hair, his head bent down. He shuts his eyes, breathes in deeply and then out again.

“Does this mean you’ll tell me your name?”

“When I am dead, Kylo Ren, I will see to have prearrangements made so that my gravestone will read _General Hux_ and nothing else _just_ to spite you.”

Kylo’s smile broadens and he feels weightless, just for a moment.

There is a fire in him, a supermassive black hole he is turning away from – he is still haunted and there is still pain he is avoiding looking at, but this is a rare moment of grace. A moment where he has felt something scarce and extraordinary – this _acceptance_ , this worthiness of something most claim unattainable. It makes him feel above man, above the Force – he is divine. Just for that moment. In his weightlessness, in General Hux’s company, in General Hux’s favor, for a moment, all pain and regret is forgotten and he is divine.

“Does this mean you’ll be following me around more?” Hux worries, already sounding bothered by it.

“Yes,” Kylo shamelessly replies, “I am quite interested in hearing about your time aboard _Juno_ and how you came to be General. I… look forward to better knowing you. On your terms.”

Hux gives him a quizzical look and then offers his hand to shake.

Kylo glances down at it and drops the rapier to take it. They shake once and hold for maybe three beats. It’s more than Kylo is used to. He suddenly can’t remember any other time he has shaken someone’s hand. It is a curious power Hux has that he is likely unaware of; that once he is in Kylo’s line of vision, Kylo can think of nothing else but Hux. As if he wasn’t a person with a life and a purpose before first boarding the _Finalizer_.

“We should spar more often, Ren.”

“I agree.”

There’s another moment of quiet and then they sheath their weapons and leave the lower levels to their separate corridors and quarters. Upon parting ways, Hux says, “well… sleep well, I suppose… if you even do that sort of thing.”

Kylo, his mask back on and modulator keeping his voice even, replies, “yes, have a good night, General Hux. You know, if you allow yourself those sorts of things.”

Hux smirks and shakes his head before turning around and walking down to his quarters.

Once Kylo is alone in his room, he closes his eyes and searches for Nali. Most of these new officers are getting ready for bed and the ship, while smaller and less populated than the _Finalizer_ , is still large and the voices are all muddled. It takes him a while to find her inner voice, having thoughts about how much more comfortable her bed looks than the one she had at the Academy.

He finds her, in a smaller room, but it is private and that’s enormously better than staying in the barracks. He’s glad Hux isn’t forcing her to rough it in the barracks.

_Nali._

She is alarmed, but accepts Kylo’s intrusion quickly.

 _Lord Kylo Ren_ , she thinks.

_You asked me earlier what it is like to be in General Hux’s favor._

_Yes._

She is eager.

Kylo is too.

_It is divine._


	7. Chapter 7

_Hellfire driving through a still-beating heart._

 

_DarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDarkDark_

 

_An aged hand slipping down the side of a deceptively young face._

 

_HanSoloGoodnightHanSoloGoodnightHanSoloGoodnightHanSoloGoodbyeGoodbyeGoodbyeGoodbye_

 

_Something cold, small and helpless screaming as it perishes in the Light._

 

_WhathaveyoudoneWhathaveyoudoneWhathaveyoudoneWhathaveyoudoneWhathaveyoudoneWhathaveyoudone_

 

_A familiar monster baring its ashen fangs, drowning out the screaming with its volatile roar._

 

_KillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdoKillitbeforeIdo_

 

**_A shift in the Universe, a catalyst, a disaster._ **

**_Obliteration._ **

 

_Hux’s greatcoat billowing in the wind and snow._

 

_Devastation._

 

_PatheticLetmedieCharmingPatheticLetmedieCharmingPatheticLetmedieCharmingPatheticPatheticPathetic **PatheticPatheticPathetic**_

 

_A White pulsar, keeping perfect cosmic time, blinding with electromagnetic radiation, glowing something ghostly and Cerulean._

 

_Interstellar comets burning Alabaster and Alice Blue._

 

_Luminous molecular clouds, Sapphire bleeding like spilled ink into Navy._

 

_Ultramarine and Maya illuminating black matter halos._

 

_Ice, Cobalt and Lapis, studded with diamonds or quasars, speckled with Silver._

 

**_Hux’s irises._ **

 

_Of course. Of course. Of course. Of course. **Of course**._

 

_WhatisyournameWhatisyournameWhatisyournameWhatisyournameWhatisyournameWhatisyourname_

 

_A blurry reflection of Hux’s naked back on the surface of comfortably cool water._

 

_“Have I impressed you yet? Are you proud of me?”_

 

**_The sensation of Hux’s eyes on him._ **

 

_The cold, small something finally silencing and the familiar monster withering away, the burning Light making him numb._

 

_“Will you forgive me?"_

 

**_Hux’s eyes, friendly, framed by his pale lashes, shining with familiarity._ **

 

_“Strange how people describe things as ‘blue as an ocean,’ but water has no color. Certainly not blue.”_

 

_Backs on the ground, staring up at the partly clouded sky._

 

**_“I do not think blue exists outside your eyes, Hux.”_ **

**_“Stop it.”_ **

**_“You don’t want me to stop.”_ **

**_“Careful, Ren.”_ **

**_“When has that ever worked in my favor?”_ **

 

_Full lips – they must be soft. They part and white, perfectly aligned teeth present themselves._

 

_It is a smile. One so beautiful, there are tears for it, somewhere._

 

_A feeling of validation._

 

_A feeling of welcome._

 

_A feeling of coming to a restful end._

 

_Relief._

 

Upon waking, Kylo inhales sharply, unsure of what his visions mean - still unsure of what was vision and what was dream-nonsense - he turns over in his bed and seeks out Hux’s presence.

Hux is still far down the corridor, very removed from all other rooms and busy halls – he is fitfully asleep, but Kylo does not investigate his dark dreams. He does wonder what a man like General Hux has nightmares about, but he is certain it is better to wait. To practice patience. Perhaps Hux will tell him about his nightmares someday.

He is determined to be up and about before Hux is even awake and this is no small task. Hux apparently comes from a planet where the day is twenty-six hours long, a clock he keeps the entire ship running on and on such a clock, Hux acquires somewhere between five to seven hours of sleep per cycle. All the other hours are spent working. He even works as he eats and often, even as he exercises.

 _He puts work aside to have time with me, however_ , Kylo thinks to himself, recalling sparring with him the night before.

There’s a thrill in that thought that opens his eyes and wills him to get out of bed. His side is throbbing and his shoulder is aching horribly - he's still healing, certainly. Perhaps he should not have sparred so soon into healing, but pain aids his focus on the Dark. The pain is good. The pain is helpful. The pain is welcome.

He flexes his toes against the cold floor – his room his windowless and pitch black.

Kylo’s trainings with the Knights of Ren helped him to acquire remarkable night vision, though, and he can see easily in this blackness. He decides that he will share stories of this training with Hux later in the work cycle. He has never shared those stories before.

He has never had someone to share them with, really.

Strange, to contemplate that those circumstances may have changed. 

“Lights at ten percent,” Kylo commands aloud and the room accommodates him.

He passes his open closet on the way to his shower and he sees his stolen goods there, in the shadows.

The deep crimson stains on the greatcoat have set for too long to remove now. Kylo would feel bad, but he can’t be bothered with guilt.

At least, not for the greatcoat.

After washing, shaving, and dressing, Kylo sets his helmet into place, touches at the hilt of his lightsaber once and then leaves his room.

To stand outside of Hux’s.

Unsurprisingly, Hux is highly displeased upon finding him.

“Are you out of your _fucking_ mind!?”

“I’m sorry, Hux, did I frighten you?”

“Y-you…! I… I open the door to my room and you are just _standing_ there! You are giving me premature grey hairs, you know! You are an absolute menace!”

“I think you might be overreacting, Hux, I only came to walk to breakfast with you.”

Kylo likes to watch the furious pink fill Hux’s face.

 _I see he is not a ‘morning person,’_ Kylo thinks gleefully, _This is useful information._

“ _Me_? _I’m_ overreacting?” Hux exclaims, gesticulating widely, “ _You_ wear a _cloak_ and a _mask_ every day of your life and I _imply_ that we have _some_ tentative alliance between us _once_ and _you_ invite yourself to _lurk_ outside _my_ quarters and somehow _I_ am the –"

“Hux.”

Hux’s mouth shuts, but it borders on a pout and Kylo has had his fun, but there is a genuine desire in him to smooth the wrinkle of Hux’s frustrated brow.

“You are orderly and rise earlier than I do. I just didn’t want to miss you.”

Compulsively, Hux fixes at the tight collar of his uniform jacket and scowls, still overcoming the shock of sliding his door open to see Kylo standing guard. He takes his hat off briefly to run his hand over the top of his red hair, smooth it down, as if it may have become mussed in his anger. When Kylo extends his mind and touches at Hux’s frontal lobe, he hears the counting as he heard it in the med bay. He makes a point to interrupt at ‘eight,’ again.

“What do you have to do this cycle?” Kylo asks, insinuating his readiness to help.

Hux’s gloved hand comes to his temple, staving off a mounting headache and gathering his patience.

“I am going to need at least three cups of caf before I deal with you.”

“Would you like me to take care of your headache first, Hux?”

Hux’s fingers stop moving and his scowl loosens.

He stares at Kylo for a moment, his expression unreadable, he then looks down the hall and Kylo assures him, “there is no one near here. The stormtroopers you have making rounds by this hall during your sleep cycle were relieved by me for the time being.”

Hux still looks displeased and Kylo is positively starved to set his mood right. He is determined to spend the work cycle showing Hux what a valuable asset he can be. This is a small task, ridding him of the headaches, and Kylo is unprecedentedly happy to do it.

“I’m… I… no,” Hux finally answers, “No, I’m fine. The caf should help, anyway.”

Kylo frowns behind his mask.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hux states resolutely, “Now, if you’re insisting on shadowing me all day, stop turning _into_ a headache and let us move on; we must get started – I have messages to respond to, three conferences and eight new officers to oversee.”

“Will we be seeing Nali?”

“What in the stars do you want with that alien girl?” Hux asks like an aggravated mother picking up a mess after their child, walking down the hall with Kylo close behind, “Should I be worried about this fixation?”

“Certainly not,” Kylo promises him, though he's fairly certain Hux is being at least a little sarcastic, “I simply prefer her.”

“You mean over Haas?”

“Over all the officers. I hate Haas.”

Hux stops walking to make a half-turn toward Kylo, his cobalt eyes like blue fire, sparkling.

“You _hate_ Haas?” Hux parrots back with a cocked brow.

“Must I repeat myself?”

“What reason could you possibly have to hate Haas?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“It is absolutely relevant,” Hux corrects, “Is it that he is too much like me?”

Kylo’s brow furrows.

“No," Kylo denies, "I do not believe he is anything like you.”

Hux doesn’t look much like he believes Kylo and Kylo knows he is not being entirely honest. To Kylo, Haas seems manipulative, intellectual, strategic and goal-driven – these are things he certainly does have in common with Hux, but Haas is tasteless, without honor. There is something innately different between Haas and Hux – Kylo cannot define it beyond a feeling, but they are not the same.

“Is it that he made himself an enemy of Nali?”

“No, and cease this interrogation,” Kylo orders, “Nali thought they were friends. I feel pity for her.”

“And none for Haas?” Hux presses, intrigued, “He could be in just as much mourning. Perhaps he instigated the break, but if Nali thought they were friends, Haas probably operated under a similar impression.”

“No, he did _not_ ,” Kylo tells Hux heatedly, “You just – you wouldn’t understand. You didn’t hear his thoughts on the observation deck that cycle.”

Now Hux looks eerily delighted.

“You _don’t_ spend any time in your own head, do you?" Hux asks incredulously, "What were his thoughts like?”

“Nothing of significance to you, otherwise I would have told you.”

Hux gives him a look that says a lot more than Kylo is used to it saying; Hux clearly wants to know what Haas was thinking, believes the thoughts are significant information to him and doesn’t really believe that Kylo would tell him if they were.

When his open, expressive display garners no results, Hux sighs, exasperated and continues walking down the hall; Kylo follows, readily and loyally.

“You don’t want me to take Haas as my apprentice – even if I don’t take Nali, you just don’t want it to be Haas,” Hux says more than asks, fixing the cuff of one of his gloves that doesn’t need fixing.

He sounds sure of himself; it’s more like an accusation and maybe it’s because of how Kylo approached him at the beginning of the cycle that they’re both feeling highly defensive. He considers explaining to Hux that he is unused to sharing space or time with people outside the Knights of Ren – all who would have easily felt him waiting outside the door and would not have been offended. He doesn’t think this explanation for his inadequate social skills will have any desired effect, though.

He burns himself inwardly for the thought that he won’t be good at this as he has sworn to Hux he would be. His explanation was genuine, however; he really didn’t want to miss Hux and the only way he knew to make sure he’d be on time with Hux was to arrive early and wait.

It didn’t seem to matter at the time, whether he waited outside Hux’s door or down the hall or around the corner. The odds of Hux being frightened by Kylo’s sudden appearance were all the same.

“That’s an accurate assessment,” Kylo responds.

“You don’t like the sound of that?” Hux asks rhetorically, “ _Hux and Haas_ – you don’t think it rolls off the tongue? General Hux and his young apprentice, Haas, General Hux and First Lieutenant Haas, Hux and Haas, both genetically abnormal and strategic geniuses. Hux and Haas of the First Order. That doesn’t sound perfect to you?”

“I prefer the sound of Hux and Vitaan,” Kylo manages to reply behind grinding teeth.

“That’s not nearly as catchy,” Hux dismisses blithely – Kylo can tell Hux is toying with him, but it’s working anyway. He wonders what the end goal of this strategy is.

“What do you see in Haas that you do not see in Nali?”

“Myself,” Hux answers simply.

Coming to a full and complete stop, Kylo crosses his arms over his chest disapprovingly and waits for proper recognition. Hux takes a few more steps before turning around and neatly holding his hands behind his back.

“You do know you look ridiculous like that, right?" Hux asks, again, rhetorically, "Hard to look authoritative with a bucket over your head. And I _have_ told you how much I hate the bucket, correct? I’m sure I have. If I haven’t, allow me to rectify the situation and alert you to the fact that I fucking hate that bucket on your head.”

“You see me in Nali and yourself in Haas and cannot apply any perspective to that to see why I dislike Haas?”

There's a beat of silence, then;

“Do you dislike me, Ren?”

It’s an honest question.

Hux’s heart is beating at thirty-three beats per minute. He is calm. Or composed, rather.

No matter the answer Kylo gives, Hux will meet it with apathy, Kylo knows. Kylo is learning quickly, though – he has always been a good student. Hux operates in strategy and the only thing that can fluster him is a wildcard – an option unseen. Kylo thinks on this for a few moments before answering carefully.

“I have no idea what I feel for you, Hux. But I do not trust you with anything other than my life.”

This throws Hux.

Kylo inwardly congratulates himself.

“…that… is a contradictory statement,” Hux starts, looking confused, “To trust another with one’s life is an ultimate form of trust, it –"

“No, it is not,” Kylo interjects, “That is not the ultimate form of trust. It is a very far cry from the ultimate form of trust, in fact.”

Hux’s body turns rigid, losing its easy, imperial aura.

“Spoken as if _you_ know anything about _trust_ ," Hux sneers.

“I am a Force user, Hux, it requires high emotional intellect, so, yes, I do know a thing or two about trust.”

Stumped and working towards offended, Hux asks, “then why did you tell me about Ben Solo last night?”

“Because you asked me to and I owe you my life.”

Hux scowls again, “that’s absurd – I did _not **ask**_ you to – and, moreover – I – you – _I_ told _you_ something of worth.”

“You think that what you spoke of is of worth to me?” Kylo begs; this is his own strategy and it seems to be working.

His strategy is only working and will only continue to work so long as Hux is under the impression that Kylo is incapable of strategizing, though.

Kylo is beginning to see where Hux’s migraines come from. To think ahead of the person before you and to predict emotional outcomes without being Force sensitive must be exhausting and Kylo can’t imagine applying this sort of manipulation to an entire army, struggling as he is to apply it to a single man.

To remain two steps ahead psychologically seems, by the moment, more dangerous – like an unlikely gamble, and Kylo has decided already that he hates not using the Force to just read Hux’s mind.

It would make this bizarre game much easier to navigate.

Hux’s face grows dark and his eyes wide.

“You… I told you I fucking _killed_ someone,” Hux says with emphasis.

“I’ve seen you commit genocide without blinking. Forgive me if I’m not shocked by your admission.”

“The murder wasn’t the _important part_!” Hux shouts, growing more furious, “What _is_ this to you? What do you _want_ from me, Ren? Actually – don’t answer that. Do not shadow me – this is already irritating beyond coherent thought and I regret speaking to you at all. In fact, I regret existing on the same plane of reality as you – altogether, just – this entire fucking time I’ve been forced to spend with you has driven me to a sharp edge of insanity and I must have had some sort of aneurism last sleep cycle to have agreed to willingly allow you into my space.”

“You are losing composure, General.”

As Kylo predicted, this statement seems to send Hux into an infuriated downward spiral.

“The agreement is dead, null, void, _over_ – do you understand me?" Hux challenges, "Can you hear me in that moronic, unsightly tin on your head? If I wasn’t positive your head was in there, I’d fear it’d be too far up your own arse to hear me properly – small blessings, I suppose, that I can locate what little brain you possess – my only regret is that I can’t _punt it_ off your fucking _shoulders_. Find someone else to lurk around – how about that purple, little officer you’re so fixated on, hmm?”

Hux whips around and starts storming down the hall, away from Kylo as fast as he can move.

“Unless I find her first and kill her, of course.”

Lightning fast, Hux finds himself struck against a far wall, as if thrown, unable to speak and hardly able to breathe. Kylo approaches him slowly with an outstretched hand, holding him in place; Hux is projecting rage, defiance and disgust. Kylo thinks that if he were to dig deeper – go beyond what Hux is projecting loudly onto him and really infiltrate his mind, he would find regret. Or hurt, maybe. Perhaps Kylo is overestimating his importance, though.

When Kylo comes to stand before Hux, he is halfway up the wall, as if pinned or tied to it. He is looking down at Kylo – it is a struggle to, as his neck feels chained to the wall behind him. His eyes are electric.

“…you are not afraid of me,” Kylo remarks, noticing Hux’s heart rate; steady at thirty-three beats per minute.

“You are an insufferable _child_ playing pretend Knight to a nonexistent King – am I meant to be intimidated by that? My title at least holds some legitimate value.”

Kylo tilts his head, his hood shifting.

“Don’t murder Nali.”

“The longer you keep me pinned to this fucking wall, the more likely I am to ignore this request," Hux threatens.

“It is not a request, it is an order.”

Hux opens his mouth, face indignant until it very suddenly calms; realization falling over him.

“… you are doing this on purpose.”

“Holding you to the wall? Yes, you’ve a sharp eye," Kylo plays off.

“No, you cretin – you are _trying_ to rile me up. Why?”

Kylo doesn’t respond to that.

He does, however, loosen the hold on Hux’s neck. He lowers Hux down the wall, still holding him unmoving and flat against it.

“I want to cure your headache, Hux.”

Hux glares at him, untrusting, “what happened last sleep cycle? What the Hells is this work cycle?”

“I strategized,” Kylo responds with a shrug, “I thought you would appreciate it.”

Hux’s brow furrows and if Kylo thought Hux were a man capable of feeling devastation, he might think that’s what passed over Hux’s eyes.

“… was everything you told me a lie?”

“You are the one so perceptive – why don’t you tell me?” - there is a beat and Kylo ticks on, “did I?”

Hux stares into the shadow of where Kylo’s eyes are, looking for some sign of life; a twinkle, a shimmer, anything. The mask allows Kylo to be the one in control, though. This is what Hux hates the most, then; he says he hates the mask but never explains why. Kylo thinks this must be why; he cannot read Kylo’s eyes or face for information and it must make him feel rather powerless.

Kylo reaches to the sides of his helmet and unfastens, pulling it up over his head, allowing his hair to fall freely and allowing himself to look closely into Hux’s eyes. He has passed the three-to-five foot radius of personal space Hux enforces. He wonders if Hux notices - Hux usually notices absolutely everything, but he says nothing about the intrusion of his personal space. At least, not yet.

“What do you think, Hux?”

Hux swallows with a click and stares into Kylo’s eyes.

Their silence is companionable again, against all odds.

Kylo finds this strange and disconcerting.

By all means, this silence should be filled with anger, should reignite hatred between them, should define what he feels for Hux with some clarity, but it is a silence of understanding.

“You told me the truth,” Hux proclaims with a gentle finality.

“What information you gave me last night is not useful to anyone but a friend,” Kylo starts, putting all his effort into looking unaffected, “Is that what I am to you?”

He removes a glove then and unzips the top of Hux’s uniform jacket.

Hux is unable to stop him, but Kylo doesn’t feel any sort of defiance radiating from him anymore.

Beneath the jacket is another dark grey dress shirt and a black undershirt beneath that. The little bump of dog tags sticks out on top of Hux’s sternum. Kylo unbuttons the dress shirt as far as he unzipped the jacket, then slides his bare hand against Hux’s black undershirt. He centers his hand, then moves it slightly to the left.

“The left lung of a human is always slightly smaller than the right. This is because the left lung has a small dent in it,” Kylo lectures, knowing Hux is probably privy to this information, but so long as Hux is frozen with silence, Kylo is glad to take the floor. He rests the heart of his palm there and splays his fingers, feeling Hux’s heart beating under the black, “The human heart rests in it – nestled there, in that dent. Almost cradled. Poetic, almost.”

Kylo absently wonders what despicable, inhumane, degrading acts some people would commit to have a chance to touch General Hux as he is touching him now. To have him so still, so vulnerable and to have his undivided attention.

“What am I to you?”

Hux doesn’t answer. His jugular is throbbing and the back of his neck is turning reddish.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you said – about time being a flat circle. A circle is both a forward movement, a step on the path and a constant return to the place of origin. We are unborn, living, dying and long dead all at once, so you say. We can say this because we know the evolution of life and death, but I have never been on an evolution such as this. I need you to tell me what part we are in.”

He meets Hux’s eyes again, dragging them up from his hand, where Hux’s heart is beating at forty-eight beats per minute now.

“I think we are past the unborn part – whatever that may mean to you. For me, human connection is by far the most difficult wilderness to navigate. I will need your help, Hux. Tell me what I am to you.”

“Why don’t you just dig into my mind and see for yourself?” Hux invites venomously.

Kylo glances down at the floor in disappointment; so, his first strategy is a failure. He wills himself not to be disappointed.

“I will not. I made a vow to you. One I will not break.”

“You also made some nauseating and unnecessary promise to protect me, but you’ve slammed me against a wall, so, I can’t say I’m all too certain _what_ vows you are willing to break,” Hux replies bitterly.

Kylo shakes his head, “it was part of a strategy. I thought you might be proud of me. Perhaps impressed.”

Hux rolls his eyes, his heart rate declining, “something I’d be impressed by is you going ten minutes without some melodramatic display.”

“Redact your earlier cancellation,” Kylo requests, watching Hux’s neck again, unsure why, “Give me permission to shadow you today.”

“You won’t be looking to throw me into anymore walls in a misguided attempt at impressing me?”

“You will not tell me what I am to you and I will not break my vow to you, Hux,” Kylo begins with some difficulty, wishing patience came more easily to him, “I want you to remain beside me. I want you to trust me as you do no other.”

He moves his dark eyes up to Hux’s icy blues and adds, “and I want to heal your headache. Tell me what I can have, what is true and I will… _behave_ , for you.”

Hux’s heart does something violent against his ribcage and the palm of Kylo’s hand, drawing his attention back down. Hux is quick to draw his eyes upward again, though.

“Fine," Hux acquiesces quickly, vying for Kylo's attention to be off his chest, "Accompany me to breakfast, shadow me if you must and if I ever trust you, I will certainly alert you to the fact and if that cursed day ever actually befalls us, I will tell you then what you are to me. For the time being… you may heal my headache.”

“Do you forgive me, Hux, for throwing you about?” Kylo asks, not really all too caring about whether Hux does or doesn’t; it’s beginning to seem to Kylo that Hux will never fear him, no matter what tossing about or grandiose displays of power he puts on.

Hux lets out that cold laugh Kylo despises and replies, “who would Kylo Ren be if he didn’t immediately attempt to dismantle or destroy those he seeks companionship from?”

Kylo abruptly lets his Force hold on Hux go; as expected, Hux lands on his feet with a strange sort of finesse that only he could possess, sliding down a wall. Once his feet hit the ground, Kylo delicately slides his hand up Hux’s chest, deliberately feeling over the dog tags, following the chain up to Hux’s neck, his sideburn and then to his temple.

Hux’s hat is a bit slanted, but he hasn’t seemed to notice yet. He’s highly distracted by how close Kylo is to him; Kylo can sense this without seeking the confirmation telepathically.

“May I… I mean, is it safe… can I keep my eyes open this time?”

_Flustered again._

Being abjectly bewildered by, and having an all-consuming fascination, with General Hux may bring the end of Kylo.

Kylo guesses it’s better than bleeding out in the snow.

“Yes, just don’t –"

“Move away when I feel the cold sensation, yes, I got it the first time. You’ve delayed my entire schedule enough, don’t you think? Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Kylo smirks for a moment, then nods.

He shuts his own eyes, even as he feels Hux’s flitting across his face. He was never terribly fond of his face – for all the reasons Hux mentioned the sleep cycle before. The size of his ears, his nose, the shape of his mouth, the asymmetry of his jaw – but knowing that Hux finds him “strangely beautiful,” fills him with a sense of acceptance he has never before known. He does not feel shameful under Hux’s gaze, heavy as it is.

The pain is starting in the back of the right hemisphere this time. Kylo smothers it with the cool void of space and hears when Hux’s breath hitches.

“No need to be frightened, my dear General.”

“I am _not_ – and would you _stop_ saying that? Like it’s some absurd pet name?”

“It cannot be helped,” Kylo admits, a smile in his voice, eyes still shut, still soothing away the sharp pain in Hux’s skull, “you feel dear to me when I sense your fear. It reminds me of how you rescued me – the fear is for yourself, but I want you to know you needn’t fear my healing.”

“It’s not… not fear,” Hux says lowly; Kylo is able to sense Hux’s eyes moving over his face, “You are… strange to me. Foreign. The Force is… that you use it makes you… alien to me. I… don’t know that I’ll ever grow used to it.”

“Let us hope you grace me with your companionship long enough that you one day feel even a reliance upon it. A dependence upon it. Upon me.”

“That sounds like an ill-wish for someone.”

“It is my understanding that people who trust each other tend to depend on one another as well. That is all I mean.”

A silent minute passes and Hux eventually breaks it by announcing, almost timidly, “I… feel better now.”

Kylo is surprised to find himself reluctant to move his hand away. Once he does, he will have to step away from Hux and there is something unpleasant about that inevitability. He opens his eyes to find Hux staring directly into his. His heart becomes unsteady – the way it has been doing in Hux’s presence as of late.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Hux?”

Hux shakes his head minutely and replies, “thank you.”

_Gratitude._

That feeling, emanating from Hux is small and faint like a flickering flame, but it is present. Present enough for Kylo to feel without digging and Kylo has not garnered this reaction from people before. Not that he can remember.

Hux’s breath is mint.

Was Kylo originally standing this close to Hux?

He can’t remember.

“There were several reasons I was kicked off _Juno_ ,” Hux suddenly begins to explain, capturing Kylo’s concern again, “Croeta had several complaints about the noise I made while designing weaponry and engineering. He didn’t care for my bucking of authority, that I carried unregistered weapons and mostly that I had slept with his wife.”

Kylo’s brow furrowed.

“Why would you sleep with his wife? Did she offer information?”

“As much as it will astound you, there was no strategy behind that particular act,” Hux responds, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his disheveled chest, “She came to my quarters one night, complained about being dissatisfied with what little sex her husband offered and asked me to relieve her tension. Croatia is a portly, shorter man, you see and she had taken a liking to my height and slimmer figure. I indulged her and found myself back on a First Order base on Aleen in the Midrim not a standard week later.”

“I have never been to Aleen, but have heard it is unpleasant,” Kylo comments, realizing how banal it sounds, but it’s all his brain produces.

“Yes, it is. Bizarre place. Just a hollow rock, really. Covered in dust and dirt and relatively smaller rocks. Colorful flora, if you knew where to look, though. Long mornings and cold nights.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kylo semi-interrupts.

Not minding, Hux replies, “because you had the audacity to accuse me of being your friend for the information offered last night. I am assuming that is because it cannot be used as blackmail. So, here is fresh information for you; I took something from Aleen I was not permitted to and if found, I am sure will be taken from me.”

Kylo nods in way of telling Hux to continue.

“I stole a cat.”

“… a cat?”

“Yes,” Hux confirms, “Her name is Millicent, she is mostly orange and she lives in my quarters with me.”

“How… how have you kept her hidden all this time?”

“There are mind tricks you can play on others without use of the Force, Ren,” Hux smirks, “If you look straight ahead and walk with a purpose, no one will question you or why there might be a lump protruding from the front of your greatcoat.”

Kylo, despite his best efforts, feels a smile spread over his face.

“I must meet her.”

“She is uninterested in meeting you.”

“You have no way of knowing that.”

“She wouldn’t like you.”

“She could like me very much – I do believe I am the one between the two of us who receives prophetic visions of the future. You, on the other hand, cannot see the future. Perhaps Millicent and I are to become great friends.”

“She would never be your friend.”

“You expect her only friend in the galaxy to be you, her adoptive father? You should widen her social horizons.”

“I am all the friend she needs and more – now, are you satisfied?”

Kylo cocks his head to the side, unsure of what he’s being asked. Hux rolls his eyes and sighs long-sufferingly, “that you know something useful about me? Will you cease this personal investigation into me?”

“I am far from satisfied, Hux,” Kylo replies good-naturedly, “You have only opened my mind to many more questions.”

“You are entirely insufferable, you do know that, right? I have to assume you do it on purpose, because I want to believe in a benevolent universe that would not create a beast such as yourself and give it no sense of self awareness.”

“Have you considered it may be my own strategy?”

Hux’s eyes sparkle in a spectacular way Kylo has never seen before. He doesn’t know what it means, can’t really gauge Hux’s emotions even, but it is encouraging.

The flashes of white, and silver, and blue, from his dreams come back to the forefront of his mind as he stares into Hux’s eyes.

“You are far too dull to be pretending," Hux decides, "No, I am quite sure your idiocy is entirely authentic.”

Kylo smiles at Hux and Hux, incredibly, smiles a conspiratorial smile right back at him. It’s nothing short of exhilarating.

“Uhm, General Hux?”

Hux’s head snaps to the side and Captain Phasma, in full armor, is standing down the hallway, unease radiating from her.

“Yes – I, I am running late, I apologize.”

Kylo takes a step back from Hux as Hux rushes to straighten his uniform out. Kylo stares at Phasma as he places his helmet back over his head.

“Any luck in finding your greatcoat, sir?” Phasma asks, head still directed toward Kylo.

Hux sighs sadly, zipping up his jacket, “no, unfortunately. I’ve harassed the nursing staff that disrobed Ren here, but they claim to have no awareness of what became of it. Searched the med bay myself and found no trace.”

“Perhaps it is a sign that you are due a new one,” Phasma offers.

It is not the _original_ , though, Kylo knows Hux is thinking this, or feeling it.

“Do you join Hux for breakfast every work cycle, Captain?” Kylo asks, voice modulated and unreadable again.

“I do,” she answers resolutely, “Am I to understand you’ll be joining us?”

Hux opens his mouth to answer – something negative-leaning, Kylo is sure, so he interjects, “yes, and for the foreseeable future as well.”

Phasma turns her head to Hux and Hux looks back at her, tired and rather defeated.

“I need caf,” Hux says like a plea for mercy.

 _Zaire Phasma_ , Kylo reads, probing her mind, searching for surface, superficial information; she does not feel him or sense his intrusion - she is not weak-minded, but she is not expecting his invasion of her privacy and so not looking for it.

“Clearly,” she replies, “Shall we depart, then?”

Hux nods, straightening his hat for the fifth time and then walking after the Captain’s turned back.

Unsure of how to continue, Kylo stays standing by the wall, uncertain of what he should do or say.

Then, Hux looks over his shoulder to Kylo and orders simply, “well, keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A circle is both a forward movement, a step on the path, and a constant return to the place of origin," is a quote by Emily Strasser.


	8. Chapter 8

The table is tense, to say the least.

Kylo can sense that Phasma is keeping quiet due to his presence; he’s the proverbial Bantha in the room, it would seem. He stubbornly reasons that she will simply have to grow used to him, and demonstrates how much he doesn’t mind her hard stare by jutting his chin and exaggerating false bravado.

He was rather caught off guard by her striking blonde hair, though, once she took her helmet off; he could be the one to blame for who made the situation as stilted as it is. He was unaware of what Phasma looked like, but he had always pictured someone darker and sharper looking.

_Does she know about Millicent?_

Hux chokes, politely covering his mouth with the black cloth laid over his lap. He glares at Kylo and Kylo fights a smile, still not looking at Hux.

_You can answer me in your head, you know. I won’t go prodding. Just think clearly and I will hear you._

Phasma asks if Hux is alright and he nods, asking her to pass him her own holopad so he can read the notes she’s taken thus far on Nali’s work performance. As he looks down at the screen, Phasma stares (slightly) more politely at Kylo, which Kylo thinks has to do with his own face being shown. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face to Phasma, but Hux wasn’t above making a scene about it and threatening to kick him out of their private office if he 'kept that Godforsaken bucket on,' so he conceded.

He ignores Phasma’s critical eyes and tips back his glass of water, allowing her to think whatever it is she is thinking and see whatever it is she is seeing. While his glass is still at his lips, he hears, crystal clear;

_She does. She has never met Millicent. She only knows about Millicent because I once was running behind schedule on a mission off-ship and hadn’t arranged for enough food to be dispensed for her in my absence._

Kylo smirks against the cool water he’s letting rest against his upper lip.

_You used Captain Phasma as a catering service for your cat?_

He sees Hux roll his eyes and decides to put his glass down before he draws too much attention from Phasma. After that, it doesn’t seem like Hux is inclined to speak more through Kylo’s channel in the Force. Phasma and Hux speak blandly about Hux’s upcoming conferences that day; one of which Phasma is mandated to attend. She asks if Kylo will be with Hux for all of the work cycle and Hux replies, “I have long abandoned hope for a forgiving God, so I would assume that yes, he will be with me all cycle.”

Kylo allows them to talk, barely utters a word. He spends most of his time shuffling through Phasma’s frontal lobe. She carries power nearly equal to Hux, but where Hux finds his power and tangible aura in passion and drive, Phasma seems to find her own in dispassion. It’s as if her apathy is so deep, so numbing, that it makes her ruthless and untouchable. Her mind is not as organized as Hux’s either. To be fair, though, almost no one has a mind as organized; Hux has a mind like a filing cabinet.

Kylo has been meaning to mention that the small glimpses he’s taken into Hux’s mind have offered him a lovely view and to commend Hux on his ability to compartmentalize. Any time he gets close to opening his mouth and saying that, though, he reminds himself that Hux is not the type to take an invasion of his privacy as a compliment.

Right as they’re leaving their awkward meal, Kylo slips his helmet on and looks in Hux’s direction. Hux aggressively does not look at him.

_How were Nali’s notes? Will we see her today?_

Hux answers immediately; _Officer Vitaan’s performance has been adequate thus far. I have not decided yet if I will stop by to see her train with Phasma. You are annoying._

Kylo touches his lightsaber, really just reminding himself it’s there. To feel for it has become something of a compulsion.

_You know, when I speak directly into Nali’s mind, she is much more talkative and interesting than you._

Instantly, Hux responds drily; _I’m positively crushed._

Behind the safety of his mask, Kylo allows himself to smile at that.

_We should spar again this sleep cycle._

Aloud, Hux asks Phasma about her schedule for the day as they walk out into the hall and Kylo is a little impressed by Hux audibly responding to Phasma while mentally replying to him at the same time; _not this sleep cycle. I will be exhausted. I have a bad feeling about one of these conferences this cycle._

_Dinner at the end of this work cycle will be the last I’ll see of you until next cycle, then?_

_Is that not enough to assuage you?_

_Certainly not. What bad feeling do you have?_

“Pardon me, Phasma – there is some business with Ren I must attend to. Alert Officer Vitaan that I read over your observations of her, but don’t indicate any sort of reaction from me. Just let her know I’m watching.”

“Yes, sir,” Phasma replies, just as Kylo sends to Hux; _I have already alerted Nali that you are watching._

“Thank you, Captain,” Hux says politely, inclining his head just so; Kylo would dare say it’s almost friendly. Not for the first time, he wonders how close Phasma and Hux are or how long they’ve known each other.

It's not the first time Kylo's wondered, but it is the first time it's ever felt like it mattered.

“I do hope you learn something from shadowing General Hux today, Kylo Ren,” Phasma announces coolly.

While Kylo turns his attention to her, Hux, perhaps wisely, decides to keep his stare to the middle distance as they look to one another.

“General Hux offers infinite and varied experience and knowledge. Is there something in particular you would suggest I focus on, Captain?”

There is a pause; Phasma is assessing him, trying to find sarcasm, which Kylo knows she won’t. Even if she were a Force user, if she could see into his mind, she would see only sincerity.

“Speaking to the Commandant puts General Hux into a disagreeable mood; this cycle will be trying for him already, so do try your best to not age him more than ten standard years by the end of the cycle. You would do well to study his aplomb and poise under pressure.”

There is feedback from Hux that Kylo can't help but feel for; Hux is expecting Kylo to throw a fit or snap at the Captain for her insinuations. He is already planning damage control.

Very strangely, an auditory memory chooses this moment to replay in Kylo’s head. It is simply Hux’s voice saying, _“a Knight of Ren mustn’t die of exposure, Lord Kylo Ren. It’s in poor taste - far too unremarkable a way to perish.”_

Earlier, Hux accused Kylo of playing the role of Knight to a nonexistent King. He is no Sith and he has no desire to be. He is no Jedi and not a single cell in his body wishes for that either. He is a Knight, though. Poise is befitting of a Knight. Particularly befitting if that Knight wishes to serve one so dignified as General Hux.

“I agree,” Kylo replies calmly, “Are you aware that the General’s average resting heart rate is about thirty-three beats per minute?”

Strangely, Phasma looks to Hux, an expression of confusion only Kylo can sense hidden behind her helmet. Still, as if Hux can sense the expression on her face as clearly as Kylo can, Hux shrugs and rubs his forehead in commiseration; Phasma looks back to Kylo, then.

“No, I did not know.”

“Mine beats at around eighty-six beats per minute. There is much more to composure and the level-headedness we both clearly so admire in General Hux here, but I’m inclined to believe that if I can match my own heart to General Hux’s, I may be a single step in the direction of his forbearance. That is my first set goal. Do you think it is at all attainable?”

Phasma pauses for a long few beats and Kylo can feel Hux’s growing discomfort beating against him – that bubble again. That sensation of Hux’s emotional being, shielding and surrounding him, knocking against Kylo's own.

“It is an admirable objective. Best of luck in your endeavor to clear-headedness, then, Kylo Ren,” Phasma answers.

“Thank you, Captain. Before we part – do you have any advice on how to aid General Hux through the trying conference ahead?”

“Don’t answer that and stop encouraging him,” Hux intercepts with clear irritation, choosing now to walk away from the both of them.

Phasma and Kylo exchange a single nod before splitting ways; Kylo brushes over her mind and finds that she was about to answer ‘whiskey,’ which Kylo stows away in his own mind for later use. Once turned away, Kylo catches up to Hux, saying aloud, “this will be my first interaction with the Commandant.”

A thunderous storm rolls over Hux’s expression.

“Do not for a moment delude yourself into thinking you will be speaking at all this cycle, for any reason, in any of my meetings, _especially_ to the Commandant.”

_The Commandant is your father, correct?_

“Yes,” Hux answers aloud, aggravated.

“Would you have preferred I asked that out loud? I thought you might appreciate the discretion.”

Hux sighs and comes to a stop around a corner. He checks for stormtroopers, but finds the hall empty. Kylo hopes that eventually Hux will realize he only has to ask Kylo to do a quick, mental perimeter sweep to find if they are alone. Kylo wonders how long it will take for Hux to realize he can rely on him.

“I – it’s not that I don’t… listen, Ren. Last sleep cycle was bizarre, this cycle's beginning was a circus nightmare and the rest of this cycle is bound to be a barrage of undesired, exhausting face-saving and dreadful, even Hellish, interactions that I might literally sooner gouge my own eyes out with a melon-baller to avoid. Do you really intend to be of use to me today, or are you going to make everything worse?”

Kylo removes his helmet again, knowing this disarms Hux, but he does it more so because he knows Hux prefers to look at him without the helmet on. He has not yet learned how to hearten or reassure Hux, all he does know is that Hux despises his helmet and it is this one small thing he can do to set Hux at some level of ease. Perhaps even allow Hux to take him a little more seriously.

“You are the only person I have ever wanted to have beside me before.”

Hux’s ears turn red and Kylo’s eyes flit to his throat again – it’s so strange, he’s still not sure what compels him to look there during these tense moments.

He looks back into Hux’s icy eyes and adds, “I apologize for the mistakes I am bound to make. This is a road untraveled on my part. I will undoubtedly bother you more than aid you at times, but please try to understand that I am… trying. Earnestly.”

Hux is unable to reply, it seems.

Kylo doesn’t go digging either – he doesn’t even brush that frontal lobe as he’s taken to doing lately. He tries to read Hux by his eyes alone. He really doesn't know how Hux does it - reading the intentions and emotions of others with such ease, with no Force sensitivity.

Hux's eyes give very little away.

“You are experiencing anxiety about speaking to your father,” Kylo states more than asks, “Would you allow me to try something – before your conference with him – to potentially ease this anxiety?”

Worry writes itself over Hux's expression when he asks, “what exactly would you be trying?”

“Nothing untoward,” Kylo responds easily, “But as in the past and the future to come, I must ask you to simply put your faith in me. If I wanted to harm you, Hux, I would have done so already.”

This more than anything else Kylo has said to Hux since first meeting him seems to make sense to Hux. He nods and exhales deeply.

“Fine. Okay. First two meetings are with contracting and engineers; if you’d like to be bored out of your skull, feel welcome to lurk behind me. Third meeting is with the Commandant and four other significant figureheads, five hours from now.”

Kylo nods and then asks, “and we are to oversee the recently absorbed officers today?”

“Yes,” Hux replies a little more steadily, “We’re going to check up on a few of them – see that they are doing well in their stations.”

“Will we be seeing Haas?”

Hux pauses.

It’s too long a pause.

Kylo cocks a brow at him and senses for his heartbeat; Hux’s heart shows no signs of unease. Kylo knows now, though, that unease may very well be there still.

“Not… if you don’t want to,” Hux says slowly and unsteadily.

Kylo’s brows pull in.

“Why… would what I want matter here?”

Hux’s eyes are shimmering with thoughts – thoughts loud and bubbling at the surface of his mind, so easy to plunge into, but Kylo resists.

“You hate Haas,” Hux states simply, “If you’d prefer not to see him, I can arrange to see him privately, later.”

“I hate that more,” Kylo replies readily.

With withering patience, Hux asks, “you will behave yourself, then?”

“Listen well, General,” Kylo starts; his tone is almost playful and the look on Hux’s face is reflective of that – whatever devious game they’re playing, it’s a game only the two of them will ever understand, “There will be a day that I kill Haas. I _will_ kill Haas. I will kill Haas when you explicitly give me permission to. And when that day arrives, I will take great pleasure in dispatching him. Until then, I am loyal to you and where you tread, I will follow, no matter what repugnant, foul, blonde-haired insects find themselves lucky enough to be stuck to your boot.”

Blinking a few times in surprise, Hux gathers himself and very nearly smiles. It makes something in Kylo's stomach squirm pleasantly.

“I have to say, Ren,” Hux begins, smirking, “I much prefer this misdirected loathing over your loud tantrums.”

“My loathing is impeccably placed, Hux, I assure you.”

“He is barely twenty standard years,” Hux informs him with a measure of confusion and joy even he seems befuddled by, as if it is an argument as to why Kylo doesn’t have a right to hate him. As if he is too young to be loathed.

“Would you prefer I not wear my helmet today?”

This redirection throws Hux, it seems.

He looks endearingly puzzled for a moment, then shakes his head and the expression off his face when he answers, “no, that's alright, Ren. Just as you have respected my privacy thus far, I intend to respect yours. No matter how ugly and awful that garbage bin of a –"

“Right,” Kylo interrupts, slipping his helmet back on, “I’ve heard before that some around this ship have schedules to keep to; with one of our own, I think we should get moving, don’t you?”

Hux shakes his head, emanating something fond as he walks away from Kylo, feeling certain that Kylo is following close behind.

“I dare say you’re nearly tolerable today, Ren.”

“You flatter me, General.”


	9. Chapter 9

The rounds are fairly boring. The officers Hux had chosen for him by Haas are performing well – particularly the Zeltron woman. More than a mathematician, she appears to be a remarkable technological engineer. Kylo never finished formal schooling and what his energies are put towards do not require sharpened math skills, so most of what General Hux and Chief Warrant Officer Madyaman Timpbra discuss goes over his head.

It is interesting, though, to watch Hux discuss the mathematics with her. She gives him statistical reviews and theories – projected damage control, projected losses post-Starkiller base, past and current statistics regarding morale and adherence to training among crew members. Hux doesn’t express much pride or intrigue, but she seems quite delighted to be interviewed so thoroughly by the General; and that he can speak with her as an equal on the subject feeds a fanatic fire in her.

When they leave her, Kylo asks Hux if all cadets of the Academy obsess mindlessly over him. He barely emotes in response – this is not due to anything other than his preoccupation with his upcoming conferences, but Kylo has no tools to help ease his mind yet. Distraction seems of no use. Hux is unlikely to accept whiskey mid-work-cycle as well.

“There are three other Generals in the First Order, Ren, it is not a simple rank to acquire,” Hux says in response, tapping through files on a holopad, “They are all aged, uninteresting and made their stations long after their Academy days. I graduated as a Lieutenant Colonel from the Academy, on my own merit. A lot of them called in favors and took sole credit for the work of many to get to where they are. At the Academy, I have become a symbol of sorts. I think my youth has more to do with it than anything else.”

“Your beauty mustn’t hurt either,” Kylo comments absentmindedly.

Hux rolls his eyes again; he thinks this is another joke.

Kylo doesn’t possess whatever it is he needs to possess to tell Hux he is being sincere.

“I didn’t realize you were so mathematically inclined – you impressed me back there.”

Hux nods his head absently and again, responds without really being part of the conversation, “there was once a philosopher that postulated the universe is composed entirely of math and music, that both create the other in an endless cycle and to understand both is to have an understanding of all existence.”

“And do you have an understanding of music as well?” Kylo asks.

Hux looks up from his holopad briefly to consider his answer before answering, “I wouldn’t say I have an understanding of it, but I certainly have an appreciation for it.”

When they check on Haas, he is in an impressively stocked hangar with a small army of pilots – some decades older than Haas, and he seems to be lecturing them. He stops when he sees General Hux enter; he salutes and the pilots all stand and do the same.

“At ease,” Hux allows, blanketing the room in a tentative calm.

Joy and thrill fills up the immediate air like a miasma and Kylo nearly gags on it. Haas meets them halfway across the room, blissfully unaware of Kylo’s disdain.

“General Hux, I did not expect you – will you be staying? We will be running through some new drills shortly, I would be thrilled to have your feedback, sir.”

_So **beautiful** – his eyes are so **blue** and his lips are so full. I wonder if he would have me. I would have to make the offer in private, much later. If I kiss him now, I think he might kill me – but what a way to go –_

“ _No_ ,” Kylo interjects furiously, “We will not be staying –"

“On the contrary,” Hux slips in, holding a hand in front of Kylo, “I would very much like to see what you’ve orchestrated, Haas.”

Haas glances innocently between Hux and Kylo, mismatched eyes eventually landing more permanently on Hux, “…sir, this is Lord Kylo Ren, correct?”

“Yes,” Hux answers.

“Would it be out of line for me to ask what purpose he serves among the crew, sir?”

Kylo’s fist is curled around the hilt of his lightsaber, now unclasped from its sheath on his hip.

“It would not be out of line,” Hux replies, either ignoring Kylo's mounting anger or not feeling it, “Difficult to explain, however. Lord Kylo Ren is a Knight.”

“A Knight?” Haas repeats, not even so much as glancing at Kylo, as if he is not there to speak for himself, or worse, as if he is a conversation piece left on a cocktail table.

“Yes, and he… protects me,” Hux settles on, uneasily.

“You do not require protection, though?” Haas mentions curiously and with an almost defiant confidence, “I read about the massacre on Polmanar – that first battle you lead. You were only nineteen. I saw the holo-photos as well – the white uniform was even more impressive stained with the blood of our enemies. You have lead so many successful battles, Polmanar just one of dozens. You have only grown stronger since then. What use could this monk – Knight, my apologies – what use could this Knight have? You are easily the most competent fighter and strategist the First Order has seen since its birth.”

“Thank you, Haas,” Hux responds politely, “I tend to agree with you, that in most cases I do not require protection. In fact, most cycles, I might warn you that if harm comes my way, the first direction in which to look would _be_ Lord Kylo Ren’s.”

Kylo turns his head to Hux, but Hux doesn’t look at him.

“I cannot imagine he is faster than your own reflexes – all this armor and that blinding helmet –"

“It’s hideous, is it not?” Hux prompts.

“Most hideous,” Haas agrees instantly.

Kylo’s face is growing unbearably hot under his _most hideous_ helmet and reigning in his temper is becoming more difficult with each second spent in front of Haas.

“What do you know of the Force, Naos Haas?”

Haas’s eyes flash to Kylo.

Feedback rolls off of Haas; he is frightened but unwilling to show it. He believes Hux will protect him from Kylo; he sees Kylo as an untamed animal at worst and a useless, decrepit power-leech at best. He is interested in promoting himself to replace Kylo, if Hux feels a need for extra protection. There is a deeper desire to be much more to General Hux – something romantic and exciting.

 _Delusions of grandeur_ , Kylo thinks.

Kylo wants to laugh in his face.

“The Force? I know… not much of consequence, I’m afraid. Most of what I know, I know through folklore and legend. Magical powers, genetic predispositions to it… that is truly the extent of my knowledge.”

“And so the extent of my powers is beyond your understanding,” Kylo announces coldly, stepping in front of Hux, uncaring if Hux is displeased with him.

His lightsaber bursts to life and he searches out Haas’s heart – so rapid, Hux should be embarrassed he has ever considered Haas as an apprentice.

“I do not serve General Hux because he requires or desires protection. I serve General Hux because he laid down his very life for a slim chance to save my own. I am not bound through contract or inheritance. I am bound to him through a loyalty and admiration you have not lived long enough to experience or comprehend. I am strong with the Force – an element that Hux has no protection against but for his mental fortitude. In all other ways, I am able to protect him as no one else can.”

He lifts his lightsaber to Haas’s face, the crackling light casting a red glow on his pale, unsteady countenance.

“And I will have you know that I do not wear this mask for any disfigurement as you have come to assume.”

Haas seems shocked to have his mind read. Kylo still feels like he could laugh, but he is more possessed by something else. Something stronger. Something more furious.

“General Hux himself has described me before as ‘strangely beautiful,' and I would never question the General's taste. I am his healer, his protector, and an extension of his own power. Perhaps you will come to understand this when you are older. He has important conferences to see to in the next two hours, however and you have wasted enough of his time with idle chit-chat. If I were you, I would gather your pilots and ships and present again what purpose _you_ serve on this crew, _First Lieutenant_.”

Nodding his head stiffly, Haas tries and fails at exuding composure, but whatever look Hux gives to him over Kylo’s shoulder makes him nod again more assuredly, turn and leave to gather his crew. Kylo disengages his lightsaber and puts it back on his hip. He turns to look at Hux and where he expects to find annoyance, he discovers a bemused cockiness.

“You are bound to me through loyalty and admiration?”

Kylo rolls his eyes, knowing Hux can’t see it and frustrated by that.

“I behaved.”

“You most certainly did not behave. You did the opposite of behaving, actually.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“No, you just threatened his station, livelihood and well-being. I’d love to hear more about the loyalty and admiration, however –"

“I would be glad to indulge you – fair trade, I tell you my thought process on that particular claim and you tell me your name –"

“ _Stars_ , you are the most infuriating –"

“General, please, lead the way out to the hangar’s observation deck. I’m eager to be through with this.”

Hux snorts something close to a laugh and mutters, “clearly.”

The display Haas had prepared was impressive – after the half hour show of battle plays, Haas eagerly talked Hux’s ear off about all his upcoming plans, the additions he’d like to make to some of the ships and inserting, at times, strangely personal comments or questions. Hux meets all of it with ease and Kylo, for the sake of Hux’s reborn migraine, remains silent.

Once they leave the hangars, they walk briskly to Hux’s conference room. Hux’s anxiety is spiking again and Kylo worries he might be sick.

“Your migraine has returned. Allow me to rid you of it.”

“No,” Hux sighs dejectedly, “It won’t make a difference. I… appreciate the concern. These meetings will only further the tension, though, and your healing will have been pointless by the first twenty minutes passed.”

“Will I have the opportunity to ease you of your personal anxieties before speaking to the Commandant?” Kylo asks.

“Yes. There will be a brief, ten minute recess between the second conference and the third. And… you’re quite sure you want to stay for these meetings?”

“Yes,” Kylo answers readily, “If they are as bland as you predict, I will find a way to meditate and make use of the time. Thus far, however, I’ve found that I quite like watching you work. I am interested in hearing what you will discuss with these engineers and contractors.”

“You are being remarkably candid today,” Hux mentions quietly, despite their close proximity.

Walking shoulder-to-shoulder with General Hux through the halls of _Aurora_ has been impressively emotionally rewarding. They are never close enough to touch, but being in Hux’s presence soothes Kylo; Hux is organized, keeps a certain pace and his heart is ever calm.

_You may not regard me as a friend, but I do consider you my own._

It is as if the thought isn’t reality until Kylo sends it to Hux.

When he imagines what he feels for Hux, what emotions swirl indistinguishably when he looks upon Hux it all becomes just slightly clearer with that thought fully formed.

His want to be near Hux, his desire to protect Hux from harm, the disappointment he felt when thinking he would not get any private one-on-one time with Hux after dinner; perhaps it all means that Kylo is in want for friendship.

Hux seemed highly offended earlier in the cycle when Kylo insinuated that Hux might view him as a friend; there may be many hurtles to overcome before Hux considers him much more than an occasionally useful thorn in his side. He is willing to master patience for this reward alone. He is willing to wait. For Hux and for clarity. He is beginning to think they may be one in the same.

Hux stops walking, lowers his arms to put away his holopad and looks to Kylo.

Kylo knows he is unreadable with his mask on and if Hux doesn’t ask him to take the mask off, he won’t. He is unsure of what his face looks like, what his eyes look like and the uncertainty of what Hux will find beneath his mask is keeping it firmly in place.

_You think of me as your friend?_

_Yes. My only friend._

Some stormtroopers pass the two of them – they give off a feeling of confusion as they walk by. Kylo thinks he and Hux must look quite strange, just standing in silence, looking at each other with neutral, unreadable faces.

_Have you ever had a friend before?_

_No_ , Kylo answers honestly.

There is an undercurrent of concern that because he has never before had a friend, that he is unequipped or undeserving to have one now. He thinks that Hux senses this too somehow.

“You know, I expanded your illusion,” Kylo mentions suddenly, “I have added much more to it.”

Hux’s eyes shimmer with intrigue and Kylo feels his heart lighten.

“I would very much like to see that,” Hux responds softly, “Perhaps… we could do that after dinner, instead of sparring?”

“This sleep cycle? You want to see the extensions tonight?”

“Yes,” Hux answers, “Yes. I think that will… help me to unwind at the end of all of this nonsense. Would you show it to me?”

“Yes,” Kylo replies, “You needn’t ask in the future. Simply tell me what you’d like to see and I will make it so.”

Something unfamiliar radiates from Hux – it is not a hunger for power, or a satisfaction. To called it ‘flattered,’ is too weak and ‘honored,’ too strong. Whatever it is that Hux is thinking or feeling, it is a positive thing. It is a good thing.

Kylo is unused to good things.

_Kylo._

At being called upon, Kylo’s face flushes. His heart thumps violently.

_Yes?_

_I am no longer small or helpless, but I fear my father as if I were. I am sure you will sense this, whether I explain it or not._

Kylo nods, wanting more than anything for Hux to feel that his trust is well placed in Kylo, and that Kylo respects this insecurity with no intention of using it against him or mocking him for it.

_You needn’t fear your father while I am beside you. I will protect you._

_What is it like, in my head?_

“Quiet,” Kylo answers audibly, “Organized. There is symmetry, control and discipline. It takes a great deal of self-restraint to refrain from further investigating it. Your mind is impressive – it is very like your personality in its elegance. I envy you for it.”

“You have not been a complete nightmare to spend the day with,” Hux starts, as if it were the highest of compliments, “You have been unpredictable at times and irresponsible at others, but I will admit that this cycle is the first… _interesting_  cycle of work I have had in some time.”

Kylo smiles eerily and Hux somehow seems to know what he's about to say – he immediately looks concerned and as though he wishes he could suck the words back into his mouth.

“Does that mean you’ll tell me yo –"

“ _No_ ,” Hux growls, “I am General Hux to you and to everyone else and when I am dead and gone, it is the only name the galaxy will have ever known me by – including you, do you understand?”

“This will change in time, I am sure of it,” Kylo teases.

Groaning in loud annoyance, Hux rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it might actually hurt and then breaks the tension between them, pulling his holopad back up and leaving the door to the conference room open, expecting Kylo to follow him inside.

The first conference is with a group of engineers – this conversation is interesting to Kylo only to watch Hux navigate projected blueprints. Of the six engineers, only two others are physically present; the other four are projected from their respective bases and ships. Kylo stands behind Hux the entire time, watching Hux’s arms move across projected screens, recalibrating and negotiating spaces. The blueprint is of a craft. It is substantial in size and apparently intended for training stormtroopers.

The engineers all seem to back Hux’s way of training an army – Kylo even mutters something about how they ought to engineer better clones instead, offers that it would be more cost-efficient, but he is quickly shot down by Hux. Hux reminds him then, with no small measure of annoyance, that he is not to speak during the meetings. Kylo nods, despite wanting to argue for the sake of arguing and takes a seat next to Hux. That meeting takes over two hours and all the engineers are still befuddled over the plans by the end of it.

“Ridiculous, really,” Hux mutters to himself, searching for files on his holopad, “A ten level craft should not be this difficult to build. It doesn’t even need firing capabilities – it won’t be used in warfare. It just needs to be a fucking floating military base. Is that really so hard to conceive?”

“If you gave them more time, I’m sure they would –"

“Oh, yes, _time_ – wait for the contractors to hear that request and you’ll see why we’re all running about like madmen.”

The contractors are far more a nuisance than the engineers and ten times more aggravating. It’s with the contractors that Hux pulls up Chief Warrant Officer Madyaman Timpbra’s statistics work, projecting what losses they’ve encountered, how many stormtroopers need to be replaced, what training will likely cost and a solid hour of the meeting is Hux reigning in his frustrations and arguing the merits of a new, isolated training station.

Kylo does meditate during this conference; Hux was correct, in that it would bore him. He leaves his seat for a corner of the room where Hux can still see him and slips into a meditative state.

He hears more conversations past and is distracted by flashing memories having once belonged to Ben Solo.

There is grass beneath small toes, a child laughing and strong arms lifting him up, insisting he come wash up before dinner or his mother will be cross. There are muffled arguments heard through thick walls and an all-consuming sadness.

It feels like three minutes have passed when Hux rouses him, but finds it’s been three hours.

“We’ve ten minutes before speaking with the Commandant. Do you have a magic spell to weave?”


	10. Chapter 10

Kylo stands and suggests that Hux follow him out into the hall; he takes Hux down an empty corridor and thinks to himself that it was probably good he spent all that time meditating, seeing as he has never done this type of healing before.

“Are you ready?” Kylo asks, removing his gloves.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Hux replies honestly.

Kylo can sense Hux’s migraine, sense his pain and nausea, the tension in his back and shoulders, the strain of every muscle. He wants Hux’s ease to be true. He wants to _make_ Hux’s ease true.

“Do you think I’ll hurt you?”

Hux contemplates this for a moment. He is hesitating – he knows this will be different than what Kylo has done in the past to heal his headaches. He knows this and the inability to predict what Kylo will do is disturbing him.

Kylo removes his helmet and offers it to Hux.

“What is this? What are you doing?”

“I need to remove it to do this, anyway. I thought it might make you feel safer, to look at me.”

Hux looks down at the helmet being offered and when he takes it in both hands, their fingers brush. Kylo gets something like an electric shock from it. Something he’s not felt before, though – it’s not a shock he’s familiar with. All the nerves in his arms alight and the tingling, hot sensation spreads over his chest. He keeps his eyes down, unsure of what they might expose.

“Have you ever let anyone touch this?”

“No,” Kylo replies, trying to shake the physical after-effects of having touched Hux’s hands. He has to shut his eyes and breathe deeply to reset his concentrations. His own silence makes Hux more nervous.

“Look at me,” Hux orders.

Without question, Kylo obeys, and lifts his head to look upon Hux. His heart twists around like it might be squeezing itself. He wonders why Hux’s vibrant eyes have this effect on him. He has met many people with eyes even more vibrantly colored than Hux’s, but for whatever reason, Hux’s eyes elicit a specific and mixed response in Kylo that no other set of eyes ever have.

Hux stares intently into Kylo’s own dark eyes for a long few beats and then he says, “I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“It would seem we’re making progress, then,” Kylo half-jokes.

Hux glances down at the helmet in his hands, then back up at Kylo.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to heal your pain and nausea, and then I am going to drain the anxiety of speaking to your father from you.”

Hux’s brow pinches curiously, “…and how exactly are you going to do that?”

Kylo wants to smile, but the unsteadiness of his chest cavity stops him. He answers simply and stoically, “through the Force, Hux.”

Shutting his eyes, Kylo offers his hands, palms facing up.

“Put your hands in mine. I need to find the epicenter of your tension.”

Silence follows and Kylo is in a near-state of meditation again, so fails to hear Hux remove his gloves and place Kylo’s helmet on the ground next to them. When Hux’s naked palms settle into his, he inhales sharply and feels Hux stiffen nervously. He thinks to himself that he will find a way to play that off as part of the process if Hux asks about it. He wonders if Hux feels that shock at all. He could search Hux’s mind to find out, but he doesn’t.

Kylo’s long fingers curl around Hux’s wrists, their hands palm-to-palm and through the tips of his fingers, Kylo extends himself through Hux’s arms, sends himself traveling through Hux’s veins, into Hux’s blood, into Hux’s air, into Hux’s chest and he finds the source of tension almost immediately; Hux’s neck.

_I have failed you in the past. You think I am unpredictable and that due to this trait, I am unreliable. I will change this in the future, but I must ask for you to put your trust in me. Temporarily. I understand it must be earned and that you are… unable to place it in me simply because I ask it of you. But for this moment, place your trust in my **abilities**. I swear I will not harm you._

_Okay_ , Hux thinks quietly.

Hux’s inner voice is curiously calm and Kylo wonders if he has passed his own meditative placidity onto Hux through this exercise.

With his eyes still shut and their hands still twined, Kylo undoes the belt of Hux’s jacket and pushes the uniform jacket open, the sleeves folding down to Hux’s elbows and the back falling loose. Kylo focuses sharply on the buttons he knows are at the top of Hux’s uniform shirt. He undoes enough to expose Hux’s clavicle, which he can see in his mind’s eye and then checks in on him.

_Are you okay, Hux?_

_Yes._

_For what I am about to do next, I require your heart to remain at a constant. Can you maintain this rate?_

_Of course I can._

Kylo smiles.

_For the next few moments, I want for you to pretend that we have known each other a long time. Pretend that I have never failed you before. Think of me as the air of your home planet; welcome me into you as you would that air._

_Alright._

Kylo breathes in deeply again and then turns his hands, raising Hux’s arms and placing Hux's bare hands around his own neck. Once Hux’s hands are spread evenly over either side of Kylo’s neck, he presses his own hands onto either side of Hux’s neck. He takes another step forward, so they are toe-to-toe and chest-to-chest. Wherever they meet physically is like a small but strong fire that Kylo is quite sure now, only he feels.

He tilts his head to the right, his hair falling to that side and he moves the center of his forehead to lean against Hux’s left temple. He knows that’s where the migraine is growing, but he can sense that this left temple is a better pathway into Hux’s mind than through the frontal lobe; he makes a note to himself to tell this to Hux later. It is unusual for someone’s temple to be their better entryway - it means nothing, really, but it serves to make Hux still more interesting and unique than others.

When Kylo’s warm forehead touches the skin of Hux’s temple, he can feel Hux’s eyelashes flutter against his nose; Hux’s skin is smooth, hotter than is healthy and he smells pleasant, but beneath Kylo’s fingers, his jugular is bouncing violently.

_Maintain that heart rate, my dear General. You are safe. I swear it._

_Stop calling me that._

_You don’t want me to stop._

Hux’s jugular throbs again and Kylo feels his focus slipping. His brows curl in and he tries to center himself again.

_What are you frightened of? What do you fear I will do?_

Once Kylo has asked, he already knows the answers.

Hux is afraid Kylo will kiss him.

Hux is afraid Kylo will look into his memories and see his father.

“Did I not tell you I would not bring you harm?”

Kylo is not sure why it seems important for that to be said out loud, but it is. Both their eyes remain shut.

“I –"

“What you are frightened of is a form of violence. Do not allow the connotations of the act itself to fool you. If it is stolen, it is an act of violence, and I will not commit such a crime against you. I will mind your privacy, Hux. Please. Remain calm.”

He feels Hux shiver under him and doubt begins to seep into Kylo’s stomach.

“This is what will happen next, Hux…”

Hux is frightened by the brush of Kylo’s lips against the corner of his mouth and Kylo tries to readjust his head while keeping their pathways connected. He cannot speak without his lips moving against Hux’s skin, he cannot help that his breath whispers over Hux’s mouth.

“I am going to ask you to imagine your father. I will not look at the memory you choose or whatever imagery you conjure. All I will be focusing on is the emotion it elicits – the emotion will be found somewhere other than where you build this image. Trust that I will not look. While you imagine your father and sit in the anxiety, I will drain the anxiety from you. It will make you feel fatigued, even faint. It will be over quickly, though, and the relief it will bring will be worth this trouble. I will not fail you.”

“You are asking more of me than you know,” Hux responds cautiously.

“Will you try something for me, Hux?”

“…that is entirely dependent on what it is you are about to ask of me.”

“Forget yourself,” Kylo suggests, “Forget who you are, your accomplishments, your failures, your upbringing, your work – forget even who I am or that I am doing anything for you at all. Put this all out of your mind. Focus on this unpleasant emotion and nothing else.”

“You are asking me to mind my pain?”

Kylo’s stomach turns over.

“Yes. Think only of the pain. Only of the anxiety. Forget all else.”

At least verbally, Hux doesn’t respond and maybe two full minutes pass in silence with neither of them moving. Hux’s back pressed against the wall, Kylo pressed against him and sharing the same air, Kylo keeping track of all of Hux’s vitals.

Hux's heart rate reaches seventy-two beats per minute, but Hux is able to maintain it at that number long enough that Kylo knows Hux has settled on an image of his father and has focused on the anxiety solely. The unrest of Hux’s heart is its own form of calm; there is stability in pain. Kylo knows this well. More than anyone, perhaps. He has much to teach Hux, it seems.

_Are you okay?_

_No._

_Good._

Like a torpedo, Kylo throws himself through Hux’s temple and spreads himself over Hux’s left hemisphere. The migraine is instantly frozen under Kylo’s power and fades like a cool fog.

Kylo points his thumbs down toward Hux’s chest and extends himself through the pads of his thumbs, down Hux’s collarbone, past Hux’s diaphragm, into his stomach and he settles what is unsteady. What spreads in the place of the nausea is warmth. Kylo has never healed this form of physical upset before; he is interested in why that might feel warm as opposed to the cold of healing sharp pain. He plans to ask Snoke later.

He brings himself to the center of Hux’s neck, pulling his energies up from Hux’s stomach and down from Hux’s mind to meet where the tangle of stress resides. His hands tighten around Hux’s throat and he moves minutely against Hux’s temple; he feels Hux make something between a gasp and a sigh.

Kylo’s hands and power close in around the cyclone shape of Hux’s anxiety; he moves his hands so that his thumbs press against the fast beating veins in Hux’s neck and he can hear a man screaming. He can sense a memory of someone’s heart beating horribly fast – too fast – blood rushing to their head and leaving their stomach bloodless and weightless, as if in a free fall. A little boy being sick onto the grass, more screaming, a shoulder being turned, a garbled cry, a throat dry and tight. Unadulterated terror.

“You are frightened of your father.”

Not that he needs to, but Hux doesn’t reply to that observation; he is lost in a dark ether, but Kylo is holding fast to Hux’s psyche. It will not get away from him. He thinks to himself that he will teach Hux how to properly meditate so as not to get so lost in his own mind in the future.

Kylo thinks of how, if Hux truly trusted him, how much more powerful this could be. How he could wipe all fear from Hux if Hux could put faith in him. He curses himself and swears that one day, he will relieve Hux of his lingering fears and he will have Hux’s trust in completion. He will have Hux’s trust because it is the most power he has ever sought and he refuses to die without it.

_You needn’t fear this beast._

There is a scratchy scream of a child, indistinguishable words made raspy from how much the throat has been abused, part agony, part sorrow, part fury, part animal fear. Kylo aches for his own empathy; he knows this child must be Hux, somewhere, a figment of Hux’s imagination or a genuine memory – it is all a blur and not something Kylo can see clearly because he is focused on suffocating the anxiety centered at the throat.

_Listen to me._

Seventy-two beats still.

Kylo punctures the anxiety like a blade into a collapsed lung and it bleeds out like a cold sweat into Kylo’s hands, streaming out of Hux’s body and into Kylo’s where it is turned to ash.

_You needn’t fear this beast or any other again._

“Kylo…”

_I am a slayer of beasts and I will protect you._

_Will you?_

_I will._

_Can you?_

_I can._

_How can I know? How can I trust that you can slay him?_

_Because I am a beast myself. One much stronger than the beast of your father. One with less to lose and something greater to defend._

_I believe you._

The last knot of anxiety centered in Hux’s throat unravels and Kylo acts quickly to catch Hux before he slides down the wall, weak at the knees. His hands come up under Hux’s arms and keep him upright, still connected to Hux’s temple, his own head throbbing with the concentration it took to eradicate what he is now considering Hux’s phobia.

It was more than anxiety or stress. It was much more powerful and it still exists – Kylo was only able to find this day's concentration of it and destroy that.

He hopes that a day in the future may come when Hux will trust him entirely, and he will be able to travel through Hux’s mind and bleed all the poison of fear from him.

Kylo asks for Hux verbally, but Hux doesn’t respond. Kylo lowers them both to the floor and kneels between Hux’s legs. He moves his hand onto Hux’s chest and counts.

Thirty-three beats.

“Kylo.”

Kylo startles, but does not show it. His eyes flash to Hux’s; he looks sleepy, weak and very nearly vulnerable. There are two strands of fiery hair straying by his temple.

“Yes?”

“You are very close.”

Kylo pulls away, but Hux’s hands come to his shoulders and keep him from going too far. Kylo glances at Hux’s hands, then to Hux’s face. Hux’s eyes are shut again, his head lolling to the side.

“You need water, Hux.”

“Not Hux. Not right now.”

Kylo’s lips move into something like a smile and he replies, “let me fetch you water, my dear General.”

“Conjure water for me.”

Kylo huffs a laugh, “I am afraid I am not able to do that without great care and focus, which you have drained me of.”

“Then the water can wait. Don’t move.”

“Yes, sir,” Kylo replies in all seriousness.

Hux opens his eyes to this; looking to see if Kylo is mocking him. Whatever he sees in Kylo’s eyes, he deems honest and he nods, though to what, Kylo is unsure. Hux shuts his eyes again and starts deep breathing.

“Do you have any pain or illness?” Kylo asks, eyes flickering across Hux’s lax face.

“No.”

“Do you have any fear or anxiety?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me your name?”

Hux’s eyes open and he is angry for a lightning fast moment, but then he sees Kylo’s mouth and eyes and a smirk takes the place of his glare.

“No.”

“Damn,” Kylo mutters dispassionately, “Will all my hard work be so thankless?”

“All hard work is thankless, Ren.”

Kylo picks up Hux’s gloves from the ground and slips them onto Hux’s hands calmly and slowly, seeing that every finger is snug and there is no loose wrinkle or empty space. He pulls Hux’s jacket up, buttoning his uniform shirt and then doing up his jacket again.

Once he’s clipped Hux’s belt back into place and accepted that he got a strange pleasure from Hux calling him “Kylo,” he stares at Hux’s chest and announces gently, “I’m afraid it is time for you to return to your own thankless work, my dear General.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Thinking something like, 'the General doth protest too much,' Kylo smiles and stands, offering his hand to Hux.

Hux grips it with little hesitation and allows Kylo to help him up off the floor. He brushes at his pants and checks his boots for scuffing, wakefulness coming back to him gradually; his uniform is still pristine and Kylo finds Hux’s unnecessary concern endearing. He knows it is a compulsion and probably one drilled into Hux through painful repetition and punishment, but the way Hux twists just so to see if there is dust on his backside is needlessly charming to Kylo.

“You look fine, Hux.”

“These uniforms are expensive. I feel like I’ve lost time – I just –"

“I know,” Kylo interrupts, “You want to see that everything is as it should be. Do you feel better, though?”

Looking down at his shining boots, Hux fixes at the cuff of his right glove that doesn’t need fixing and confesses, “I do. I…”

Kylo waits for Hux to complete his thought, which Hux seems somehow bothered by - he is perhaps hoping Kylo will lose patience and not wait for the end of that sentence.

Hux looks up to Kylo again and then sighs.

“Thank you, Ren.”

That is not what Hux wanted to say, but Kylo doesn’t press him.

“It is a privilege to aid you, Hux. Do you feel ready for the conference?”

Hux nods, but stands still. Kylo kneels to get his helmet, but just as Hux does not move, Kylo does not move to put his helmet on.

“Will everyday with you be like this?”

“I have no way of knowing that. If you want everyday spent with me to be as it has been today, I will make it so. Otherwise, I am sure we will find a way to keep you from fainting on a daily basis.”

“I did not _faint_ ,” Hux sneers, ears turning red.

“Of course not,” Kylo replies blandly, pulling his helmet on.

Hux hesitates further; there is something he wants to say that refuses to come out. Hux seems aggravated by Kylo’s patience. He eventually decides to move in silence, back toward the conference room. He exudes confidence and a readiness Kylo wants to possess; where Hux exudes readiness, Kylo has an abundance of eagerness. These are not dissimilar virtues, but far enough away from each other that Kylo’s energy is uncontrolled, undisciplined and Hux’s practically radiates with a coolness and collectedness Kylo only hopes Hux will teach him how to achieve.

When they walk into the conference room, all the men are projected from their respective ships and the Commandant is immediately recognizable. Not because he looks like Hux, because he does not look much like Hux at all. There is a shift of light in the Commandant’s eyes when Hux walks in and stands before him, though, and this is how Kylo knows.

“Who is behind you? Are they granted this clearance level?”

“Commandant Brendol Hux, this is Lord Kylo Ren. He is not of the First Order’s military. He is a personal guard to me and what can be said to me can be said in his presence or not at all.”

Kylo tries not to feel proud of Hux.

He really does try.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here comes protective!kylo everyone get ready

The conference with the Commandant does not go well.

Kylo is highly frustrated that the Commandant refers to his son as ‘General,’ (he had been so sure he would hear Hux’s first name, but he’s beginning to think several people are aboard a conspiracy to keep this secret from him) and at the end of it, Hux is given his least favorite order.

Socialization.

These other figureheads Hux had mentioned well beforehand are just that; men with titles hardly earned and who barely touch the work they take have claim over. They discuss how some important investors are reconsidering their positions in the First Order and two people in particular who funded nearly half the budget for Starkiller base are worrying them with threats of abandonment. The Commandant instructs Hux to attend a gala where several of their investors will be. When Hux argues that he’s of more use at the controls of _Aurora_ than he is at any sort of social event, he is quickly silenced.

Kylo is rather alarmed then, that Hux’s anxiety simmers again. Like a small crackle in burnt embers – Kylo knows his strength and the extent of his abilities. Hux should not have been able to feel any anxiety before his father for some time. Hux’s fear, it would appear, is beyond Kylo’s initial comprehension.

 _I will just have to try harder next time_ , Kylo tells himself.

Surely, Hux will allow him to dull stress and anxiety for him again sometime. He will do better next time, he is certain of it. He tells himself he has no other choice but to do better for Hux.

“You are not understanding me, boy,” the Commandant says viciously.

Hux looks coolly at his father, but Kylo can sense his strong desire to run away.

“Tuc Antur and Chan-na Krin will be attending. Tuc Antur is unlikely to leave the safety of the First Order – he has invested too much to walk away. Chan-na Krin, though, must be secured. You are going to this gala and you are securing her finances.”

Hux scowls, opens his mouth and Kylo experiences a multitude of sensations at once, in that brief second before Hux speaks.

A sinking feeling in his stomach, his heart lurching, a sharp pain in his side and a vision; prophetic, Hux is chatting up nobility from varying systems, there is a glass of something in his hand, someone readies a blaster and aims for Hux’s heart. His heart beating thirty-three beats per minute.

Hux won’t see it coming, then.

Any efforts to cancel the gala altogether will be a waste of energy; too many important people want an excuse to over-indulge. Hux will be dressed with his awards glimmering on his chest – his red hair, his uniform, his height – it will all make him too easy a target to strike.

“General Hux cannot attend the gala,” Kylo interrupts.

All heads turn to him; Hux looks furious.

Kylo knows that Hux explicitly told him not to speak to the Commandant, but it must be said.

“For what reason?”

“There will be an assassination attempt. I can sense the gala will proceed as planned despite forewarnings. If Hux is not there to kill, this person will kill someone or multiple others in his stead. He is wanted, though. Specifically.”

The Commandant’s eyes turn to slits and Kylo thinks he looks a lot like a snake.

It’s befitting.

“And how would you know this?”

“Lord Kylo Ren is strong with the Force,” Hux says without looking at his father, staring with some measure of concern at Kylo, “Did you… have some sort of vision?”

“Yes,” Kylo answers, “Just now – you were about to tell them you would accept this mission dutifully, but you can’t. You will be in danger.”

“What did you see?” one of the holo-projected men asks.

Kylo holds Hux’s stare, though he knows Hux can’t see his eyes. He knows too that Hux can feel them anyway.

“The gala – I saw the venue, the crowds. Alcohol served to Hux will make him too lax. I cannot tell if he is drugged or not. He is too relaxed, though – he won’t see the attack coming. Even as I am telling him now, something will put his concern aside and he will be careless. If you send him to the gala, he will be murdered.”

Silence ensues and Kylo almost regrets speaking up. Perhaps he should have told Hux in privacy – Hux doesn’t look angry with him anymore, though. Hux stiltedly turns his head back towards his father’s projection and says, “Lord Kylo Ren could level cities with his power alone. If he is claiming to have a prophetic vision, I believe him, and I would urge everyone to heed his warning as well.”

The Commandant doesn’t look at Hux, keeps his narrow eyes on Kylo when he asks coldly, “and if Lord Kylo Ren’s power is so supreme, how did he not foresee your imminent and devastating failure on Starkiller?”

Hux’s shoulders stiffen; he is not about to respond.

Kylo has never been offended on someone’s behalf before.

The rage for Hux is somehow stronger than the rage he often feels for himself and 'behaving,' or remaining silent is no longer an option, if it ever really was.

“He destroyed the entire Hosnian system, or were you so absent that you failed to see the glory of his destruction from across the galaxy as all other remaining systems did? Starkiller base was the most efficient and devastating weapon this galaxy has ever seen. There was no reason to doubt Hux’s capabilities or competence. I had other matters to concern myself with at the time – matters that actually warranted contemplation.”

Kylo can sense Hux’s unease rising.

_How dare he speak to you this way._

_Ren, quit while you’re ahead for both our sakes._

Hux’s willingness to bow before his father spurs Kylo on.

He thinks of Han Solo – he thinks of the rejection Ben Solo felt, the anger Han could not hide from him, the willingness to abandon him to a faraway planet, to strangers – all because Kylo’s power was too great.

Kylo bitterly thinks to himself that Han Solo and Commandant Brendol Hux are not so dissimilar. The both of them too intimidated by the powers and successes of their sons to accept them for what they are; burdened with righteousness and inconceivable power.

“General Hux is a man of calculated action and unending patience. He is a man who truly understands the art of warfare; a battle lost is not the war. The Resistance lost too many soldiers to account for in their efforts to bring down this weapon of mass destruction – which they only succeeded in doing after the Core planets housing the capital of the New Republic was entirely obliterated. That you see Starkiller as a failure speaks to remarkable short-sightedness and a detachment from the realities of our victory.”

Kylo turns to face Hux when he says, “a victory the First Order owes entirely to General Hux. He credited his army with having built Starkiller, but it was he who trained them into competence and it was he who designed and engineered the base to begin with. I did not foresee the failure of Starkiller because there _was_ no failure of Starkiller.”

Kylo sees Hux’s hands shaking minutely. His throat tightens in worry.

_Are you okay?_

_You just called my father unattached to reality and narrow-minded, Ren. If he were here in person, I would be lying next to you slain already._

Kylo’s brow furrows.

_If he were here in person, I would have already cut out his tongue for speaking so treasonously of you._

The corner of Hux’s lips twitch and Kylo senses uncommon feedback from Hux.

He is not pleased with Kylo, not exactly, and anxiety is still making a valiant effort to crawl across the surface of Hux’s mind like loose spiders, but there is something else. Something like comfort.

Without whiskey, Kylo has managed to console Hux.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention to what he had said to the Commandant; he said it all in anger, so it seemed to fly from his mouth without monitoring or censorship. Or maybe it was the imagery of Kylo taking the Commandant’s tongue out that so comforted Hux.

“You’ve never needed a personal guard,” the Commandant directs at Hux, in a tone much like that of Haas’s, “What is he really doing here?”

“He thinks he owes me his life.”

The Commandant looks back to Kylo and Kylo touches at the hilt of his saber, admitting slowly, “as Starkiller base collapsed upon itself, I was out of range – I was out in the wild of the planet as it broke apart. General Hux, at great personal risk, came for me despite having a ready safety pod. It would have been wiser to leave the planet as soon as he could, but he made the decision to search the ground for me. He is the only reason I am alive now before you. A life debt is not one easily repaid.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” the Commandant sneers, “I will put this to rest for us all; you will repay your debt now.”

Kylo smirks, thinking the Commandant is challenging him to a fight.

His hand tightens around the hilt of his saber.

He would love to kill the Commandant.

Kylo has a very quick fantasy of torturing this man, Force-choking him, throwing him across a room and then passing his lightsaber to Hux. Being there to watch Hux kill his father – kill his fear. It would be bloody and glorious and Kylo has never before wished to share his saber. Never before wished to share his power. He is surprised by his own mind’s eagerness to share this with Hux.

He has a quick vision of a green lightsaber gliding through the air, then.

He doesn’t know if it’s a prophetic vision or a daydream. It might lie somewhere in between. He decides he’ll think on it later.

“You will attend the gala with the General and save him from this assassination attempt,” the Commandant announces, “You are so confident in your abilities, surely you can handle guarding him at a gala. Once the attacker is procured and General Hux is securely back on _Aurora_ , your life debt will have been repaid and I will not be forced to look upon the monstrosity of your costume mask again.”

Hux and Kylo trade a quick glance, both feeling and looking alarmed.

“But –" Kylo starts.

“A life for a life,” the Commandant intercepts with a booming voice, “Your debt will be repaid, the General will have secured our supporters and the assassination attempt will be thwarted. There is no reason for you to decline, unless you have some doubt as to whether or not you are truly capable of protecting him.”

Kylo scowls and he hopes that somehow the Commandant can feel his hatred.

“I am more than capable of protecting him. It may have slipped your notice, but intentionally putting General Hux in harm’s way is counterproductive to that initiative.”

The other holo-projected men are beginning to look concerned for Kylo's sake.

“The vision I had is true. There is danger awaiting him at the gala. He is someone’s target. He should not attend.”

“Perhaps not,” the Commandant replies smoothly, “but he will. And so will you.”

The Commandant looks to Hux again and orders, “get him out of my sight. This discussion is closed and if I have to look at that disgusting –"

“Lord Kylo Ren,” Hux says gently, his shaky hands folded behind his back and his eyes traipsing the floor, “Will you attend this gala with me?”

Kylo is very torn, but he knows the answer Hux wants. He shuts his eyes and tries to breathe carefully.

“Yes, General. It would be an honor.”

“Very good,” Hux responds, “It would seem my sole audience is requested for the rest of this meeting, but…”

Kylo tilts his head in intrigue at Hux’s hesitation. He is somewhat disarmed at the hopeful glimmer in Hux’s eyes when he finishes, “I would be grateful if you remained close – perhaps waited for me outside.”

Kylo’s heart thuds violently and it is now becoming a familiar reaction to Hux’s words. Kylo doesn’t find it strange anymore. In fact, he is beginning to welcome the sensation.

“I will not stray far, General,” Kylo promises, bowing his head to Hux before leaving the room and notably not doing so for the Commandant or any of the other men.

Once the door is shut, Kylo stands outside and listens to the rest of the conference.

_“A Force user? Really? Will you turn the entire Order into a circus before I’m dead?”_

_“He is an asset to the Order and to me, personally. Your mockery cannot change the reality of his power – power I have witnessed myself. That he has not overthrown this entire establishment by himself already is a mercy. He can warp space-time and you can insult his hand-crafted helmet from a chair in the Midrim. You should accept and know your place. Is that not what you always taught me?”_

There is a beat of silence.

Kylo tries to imagine a little red-headed boy being told to know his place by that snake of a man. He is disgusted. He contemplates the repercussions of murdering the Commandant, his hands are curled into tight fists and he wants to destroy something. If he cannot destroy the Commandant, he will destroy whatever is closest to him.

He takes his lightsaber out, ignites it and intends to bludgeon the wall with it, but then he hears the Commandant’s voice again;

_“Is he listening to this right now?”_

_“I would assume so. He’s made a habit of visiting my mind recreationally and there is little use in trying to keep secrets from him. He can take whatever he wants from anyone whenever he pleases. You may as well speak freely.”_

Kylo disengages his lightsaber and attaches it to his belt again. He breathes in deeply, and out again slowly. Hux’s high praise of him is like a cool salve on an open, burning wound.

That’s the last Hux or the Commandant speak of him.

The men go on to tell Hux they need him to construct a new weapon – not something so complex as Starkiller (which the Commandant goes on to belittle further), but something transportable – the Commandant implies that the Resistance is expecting another enormous attack, so something smaller and more inconspicuous would be strategically beneficial, as the Resistance will not have predicted it. Hux offers the idea of specialized missiles and then Kylo’s focus breaks when he hears Nali’s voice.

She comes down the corridor beside Phasma and when she sees Kylo, she breaks into a run toward him. His entire body turns rigid, half-expecting her to wrap her arms around him like an excitable child. She stops just before him, though, seeming to remember herself but still radiating joy.

“Lord Kylo Ren,” she greets, bowing lowly before him.

Phasma steps up behind Nali eventually and nods to Kylo in greeting.

“Nali,” Kylo greets, “Captain.”

“Is he still in there?” Phasma inquires.

Kylo nods and Nali looks between them curiously.

“You’ve been kicked out, I presume?” Phasma asks.

“Essentially,” Kylo replies, “Apparently the Commandant doesn’t take well to being accused of narrow-mindedness and incompetence.”

He senses Phasma’s disbelief and delight and smirks behind his mask.

“And the General didn’t have a stress-induced stroke on the spot? Are they giving him Hell in there for you speaking out of turn and rank?”

“They mocked him,” Kylo says regretfully, “But there is not much any of them can do from so far away. Hux was quite sure the Commandant would have murdered him if he were here in person.”

“The Commandant?” Nali interjects, “General Hux is speaking with the Commandant right now?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Phasma tells her, “I’m not sure what the Academy teaches you all nowadays, but there is no good blood between General Hux and his father.”

Nali frowns, “he is… not proud of General Hux?”

She looks down at her feet, her officer’s uniform is in pristine condition; Kylo absently hopes that Hux will step out of the room in time to see Nali and take note of how much care she has put into her appearance and posture.

“I always imagined what it might be like to claim familial bonds with General Hux,” Nali confesses, “- what it might feel like to tell others that he is my brother, or uncle or cousin. The Commandant must feel _some_ pride – it would be impossible not to. He has accomplished so much…”

“Pride can contort anything, even children, into objects of hatred,” Kylo says to Nali, “And greed is a bottomless pit. Together, they breed resentment and resentment can only bring with it the death of all potential.”

Nali looks sorry on Hux’s behalf and Kylo is glad for this.

_General Hux is okay. He is a strong man. You needn’t worry._

Nali nods to him and then he looks at Phasma.

“They are sending him to a gala where there will be an attempt on his life. They are sending me to intercept this attack, but I have a bad feeling about it all.”

“What?” Phasma and Nali ask in harmony.

“What do you mean? How do you know there will…” Phasma trails off, answering her own question in her mind.

“Yes, I had a vision,” Kylo answers, “He will be unsafe there and the vision was too quick, I was unable to tell who is going to make the attempt. Even from where. Hux’s guard will be down. This could be disastrous.”

“There was no talking them out of it?” Phasma wonders.

“The more I talked, the deeper a grave I seemed to dig for Hux. They are counting on me to see him alive through this ordeal.”

“And can you?”

Kylo scowls in Phasma’s direction, though she can’t see it, “of course I can. Death would have to materialize into a physical and Force wielding apocalyptic army to even come close to General Hux while I am near. This is not my fear.”

“What is your fear then, Lord Kylo Ren?”

“He doesn’t know,” Phasma answers for him, meeting Nali’s eyes, “Force users rely heavily on their intuition – Lord Kylo Ren can trust his abilities and still distrust the universe’s chaotic ways.”

Kylo considers speaking into Phasma’s mind, but he doesn’t. He isn’t sure what he wants to say to her anyway.

_Maybe she knows Hux’s name…_

He shakes that thought from his head. He mustn’t pry into Phasma’s mind, he decides. He would be too tempted to search for more information on Hux.

As they are all standing together, the door to the conference room opens and Hux steps out, eliciting more idol worship and elation from Nali. He looks to her curiously, then between Phasma and Kylo.

“Greetings.”

“How did that meeting go?” Phasma asks.

“As well as all my meetings with the Commandant go. I have weaponry to design and funds to secure. Their requests all could have been written out to me, but no – they have to take up two hours of my cycle to berate me.”

Hux sighs long-sufferingly and looks to Nali again.

“Officer Vitaan,” he starts kindly, “I have been thinking of you.”

Her eyes light up like burning quasars, “you have, sir?”

“Yes,” Hux continues, “If it fits into the Captain’s schedule anywhere, I thought I might spar with you. I saw your altercation with Haas.”

She looks torn between taking pride in that and looking shamefaced for having perhaps offended Hux’s favored protégé.

“It was impressive," Hux tells her, soothing her worry away, "You have considerable strength. Perhaps when you are next doing physical training with Captain Phasma, you will remind her to alert me, and Lord Kylo Ren and I will offer our own teachings.”

“Oh, General Hux, sir, I would – I would be _so_ honored,” Nali tells him, a shy and hopeful smile filling up her face, “I would want nothing more, sir.”

“Very well,” Hux states impassively, “Now, I don’t know about you and the Captain, but it has been a fifteen-hour work cycle for me and I’m quite hungry.”

He looks up to Phasma, then back to Nali and asks, “would you care to join us for dinner, Officer Vitaan?”

At this invitation, Nali is speechless. Her mouth is opening and closing a little, her face is turning a darker violet than what is usual, and her eyes might actually be watering. Kylo takes a step closer to Hux and speaks on her behalf; “I’m pretty sure that’s a ‘yes, sir.’”

“Y-yes! Yes, of course – yes, yes, sir,” Nali recovers nervously.

Patting Nali’s shoulder awkwardly as a sort of reward, Hux instructs, “go freshen up and change into something comfortable. I would like to talk to you about a new training regimen for the troopers. I would like your input on the potential alterations.”

Phasma is eventually able to pull the faint and starry-eyed alien girl back toward their rooms, but once Hux and Kylo are alone again, the silence is burdened.

“What did you see?”

“A blaster.”

“How was their aim?”

“Perfect.”

Hux rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, sighing out, “very well.”

There is much Kylo wishes to say, but he doesn’t think Hux would respond well to most of it. He decides taking Hux’s mind off the conference might be helpful.

“Why do you not pat me on the shoulder for work well done as you did with Nali?”

Hux lifts his head from his hand and checks from the corner of his eye to see if Kylo is joking.

Kylo knows it’s impossible to tell with his mask on.

“There is power in anonymity,” Hux replies instead.

Kylo tilts his head curiously again and Hux drops his hand from his brow, looking somehow serious and shy at once.

“Simple minded people fear what they cannot see or understand. Have you ever learned about the uncanny valley?”

When Kylo shakes his head negatively, Hux elaborates patiently, “the uncanny valley refers to the place between certain safety and identifiable danger. A young lady in a floral dress presents no obvious danger, a feral nexu presents imminent danger – however, a young lady in a floral dress with traits of a nexu presents an issue and lies in between – between the valley of safety and danger. There is no knowing whether or not she will hurt you – does she have the mind of a nexu, or just the unblinking eyes of one? Because we cannot predict how much danger she presents, she falls into the uncanny valley.”

Kylo can feel the stress of the day falling off Hux like water sliding down skin; he is grateful to have taken Hux’s mind off his father.

“A movement in the dark of your room when you are certain you were alone; this again falls into the uncanny valley. The amygdala works tirelessly to keep us alive, but when it is presented with ambiguity, it struggles to produce an accurate and punctual reaction. You, Ren, hide your voice away, your face away, cover every inch of you skin and you are a shadow. A figure of darkness, an experience rather than a person.”

Hux crosses his arms over his chest, still looking a touch too small without his greatcoat. Kylo would like for Hux to get a new one; he’s beginning to care too much about Hux’s attachments to frivolous things.

“Don’t get the wrong idea here – I hate that mask,” Hux needlessly reminds him, “but it is not a costume mask or disgusting. It serves a tactful purpose and it is crafted masterfully. It is… I… you…”

It occurs to Kylo very suddenly; _he is trying to comfort me…_

Tilting his head back at Hux, his eyes softening behind his helmet, he saves Hux from having to speak more on his father's insults by interrupting, “thank you, Hux.”

Hux’s ears turn dark red and so does the back of his neck.

Kylo enjoys watching this shift in color.

“Yes, well, you understand. Don’t forget that I hate it – I truly, deeply loathe that tin can, so much so, I could –"

“Yes, yes, you hate the mask, I understand.”

The silence that follows is companionable and Kylo breaks it by asking quietly, “after dinner, will you come to my quarters with me? I can show you your illusion again, if that is still what you –"

“Yes,” Hux agrees eagerly, “Yes. That would be… yes. Fine. Very good.”

Kylo begins to step in the direction of the room where Hux and Phasma apparently share their meals regularly, but he is stopped by Hux’s hand on his upper-arm. He looks back, glancing first at Hux’s hand, then to Hux’s downturned face.

“You… what you said to my father…”

Kylo waits.

Hux’s grip turns gentle, his gloved thumb brushing back and forth just once over Kylo’s bicep.

“Thank you. For standing beside me through that.”

Blinking in some wonderment, Kylo tells him honestly, “I am glad to. Though, I would be more so if I had the chance to maim or at least horribly disfigure that beast.”

Hux fights a smile and turns his head away, taking his warm, shockingly gentle hand back.

“My father is right about one thing; you are dramatic.”

“I’m a man of passion,” Kylo asserts, “There is a difference.”

Hux snorts a laugh in a small way at that and assures Kylo, “there is absolutely no difference when it comes to you.”

“You know, I was so sure he would call you by your first name," Kylo complains, "The galaxy is conspiring against me, I can feel it.”

Hux rolls his eyes and starts walking ahead of Kylo, “yes, Ren, the entire _galaxy_ is _conspiring_ against you, but you are not dramatic at all.”

 _Alright_ , Kylo thinks, _Fair point._


	12. Chapter 12

Dinner with Nali goes as Kylo expected; it is a psychological minefield only Hux knows how to navigate and Kylo tries his best to stay out of it.

Phasma seems unbothered by Hux's mind games; there is a sense of normalcy from her, that this behavior is common and expected. Kylo wonders if Hux has psychologically molded Phasma to be how she is or if she is her genuine self in his company. If anyone is their genuine selves in front of Hux. Perhaps Hux puppeteers everyone he encounters, to some degree.

When Kylo is the only one to not eat, Nali asks him politely if her presence is a nuisance to him, and won’t remove his mask for that reason – he tells her that it is not her doing at all.

“I performed a healing today, which has drained me and to prepare for the gala, I will need to meditate," Kylo explains, "Fasting is not uncommon among Force users. To meditate and get in touch with the power that I do requires focus, but also a willingness to leave the body and conscious mind. If I eat, blood better used in my brain will go to my stomach instead. And in some ways, hunger leaves you more open to the nature around you rather than within you.”

“You healed someone today?” Nali asks curiously, eyes wide with intrigue, “What is it like, to heal another person? I did not realize the Force could heal.”

“That and much more,” Kylo tells her.

Kylo notices Hux watching him, and he takes pleasure in knowing Hux is interested in hearing about the ways of the Force.

Or perhaps he is only looking at Kylo as a warning not to tell anyone about his “healing.”

Either way, Kylo likes having Hux’s eyes on him.

“To heal another person is… exhausting, but interesting. The spirit’s connection to the corporeal body is where the Force can be laid across. Locating pain, illness is about focus. Examining the pain or illness is about figuring out exactly what type of healing is required. Once that is established, the healing itself can be very physically demanding. It all depends on the nature of the wound.”

“Do all Force users heal?” Nali interviews.

“No,” Kylo answers, “Not all Force users can. It is very advanced work. Healing was the first skill Ben Solo acquired through the Force, before training.”

“How did you find out you could heal?” Phasma asks.

“And what was training like?” Nali follows.

Kylo struggles to answer, his hands clasping together between his knees, “… the healing… well… Ben Solo, at the age of six, saw a fallen bird…”

 

* * *

 

 

_The grass is a vibrant green, the wind further tangling Ben’s already mussed hair. It’s always in a state of disarray – he likes it that way. He sees storm clouds rolling in and hears panicked chirping followed by a roll of thunder._

_He follows the scared noise instead of his mother’s voice calling for him from a sliding door that leads to a familiar kitchen He strays further into the woods behind his home. When he finds the source, he sees a rather large bird, blue, pink and white in color, fretting loudly over a very small bird of similar colors._

_“Your baby is hurt,” Ben Solo says in understanding, “Did he fall?”_

_The bird whistles and chirps, more upset and Ben Solo assures the bird, “there is no need to worry. I fall all the time – my mother’s kisses have healing properties. It is why my knees are never scraped. I’m sure your baby will be fine if you kiss him too.”_

_The bird makes more panicked noises and moves just slightly so that Ben is able to catch a glimpse of the tiny bird, splayed on the ground that the mother bird is so worried over._

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s wing was broken and it was in evident pain. Ben didn’t need to be Force sensitive to sense that – Ben Solo’s father had always taught him to kill animals in pain that have no way of recovering, but Ben believed the bird was not beyond rescue.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Ben picks the baby bird up in cupped hands – he looks into the mother bird’s four unblinking eyes and sees her worries. She senses the storm coming. There are more small birds of her family somewhere safe, but this small one cannot fly to their safe haven. She does not wish to leave him, but fears she won’t have a choice in the matter once the lightning begins to strike._

_To see the baby bird’s agony twists Ben’s stomach into knots. He thinks to himself that if his mother’s kisses can heal the bruises on his elbows and knees, that surely he could have inherited her magic. And if he is not as magical as her, he shall take the bird to her at once._

_He tells the mother bird of his plan, adding, “and if she cannot heal your baby, she will find someone who can. My mother is a princess and she won’t let your baby die.”_

_Then Ben leans forward and kisses the fractured wing._

_Nothing changes._

_Thunder rolls and Ben’s heart sinks._

_“No, no –“ he tells the mother bird, “I can do this, I swear – you will be safe before the storm comes.”_

_He leans down again, bringing the baby bird close to his face. It squirms and flaps its only useful wing. Its small noises of pain are sure to linger in his ears long after this is over. He hears its tiny heart beating rapidly and he hones in on the sound. The sound reaches out to him like a physical touch and drags him through thin blood and hallow bone. His intuition tells him to allow this vision to fully come to light, like allowing a lucid dream to continue despite knowing it is a dream. He welcomes the invisible force weaving him through the baby bird and sees the splinter with his eyes shut and it is terrible to look upon._

_“I can heal you,” Ben assures the bird, “I promise.”_

_Instinctively, he brushes his left thumb delicately over the injured bone and then he feels a spreading warmth through his chest, hears a snapping sound in the bird and his hands begin to shake, finger tips feeling oddly numb, as if recently dripped wax coats them._

 

* * *

 

 

“He was able to, without any prior training, extend himself into the bird and wrap around the wound like a cast. He healed the bone. It was a simple task – the bones of a bird are small, hollow and fragile, even more so in a baby. Once the baby bird was flapping both wings again, Ben Solo saw to personally escort them to their chosen tree. They were tucked away in a nest, beneath thick leaves when he left them and when he returned home, he was met with scorn for having gotten caught in the rain, been late to dinner, dragging in mud and for wandering beyond the private premises.”

Nali appears confused; she does not realize who Ben Solo is or why he is relevant.

He senses that Phasma is considering explaining the situation to Nali at a later time.

He doesn’t want her to. He can’t place why; he doesn’t want Nali to know he killed Ben Solo. He thinks this might alter her opinion of him. Why her opinion should matter is beyond him. All he knows is that he doesn’t want Nali to know he killed Ben Solo.

“When Ben told his parents what he had done, they seemed concerned more than pleased. The topics were all dropped and from that day forth, Ben sought to better control his abilities. He rarely went to his mother, despite knowing she was Force sensitive. He sensed that she would keep certain knowledge from him and he was right. When my training began, my healing abilities were sharpened to near perfection by Supreme Leader Snoke.”

“What type of training is involved in… whatever it is you train in?” Hux asks dispassionately.

“I was, and still am, being trained in the Dark side of the Force,” Kylo responds levelly, “The training is rigorous and, at times… lethal. Not all the Knights of Ren survived initial training.”

Nali nods in understanding, mentioning conversationally, “eight cadets died in training this year at the Academy. To be part of something great is to make sacrifices. I am sure their losses were our gain and their spirits guide and oversee your safety to this day.”

Kylo’s interest is piqued, “Nali, do you consider yourself a spiritual person? Do you have a religion?”

“No, Lord Kylo Ren,” she answers regretfully; as though she wishes she did have a religion, which is a curious wish to have, “I have never been one for fairytales.”

“You believe in spirits, though?”

She shrugs, dabbing her cloth napkin over her lips politely before replying, “it makes sense to me that the universe would recycle. Nature is in a constant state of seeking equilibrium. We see beauty in symmetry and the recognition of patterns calms us, as sentient beings that perceive reality through light and vibration. The conscious mind is energy being exchanged between synapses, the conscious mind stores memories and experiences and that is what makes a person who they are. If consciousness is energy, like all matter, it cannot be destroyed. It can only change form. It would make sense to me that the universe would reuse preexisting energy, more sense anyway than the idea of vanishing altogether.”

Kylo hums in interest and announces, as if it were a challenge, “those are very valid and well thought out points, Nali. Did you know that General Hux does not believe in any afterlife? In fact, he has claimed that time itself is finite and the ways in which sentient beings can experience time is finite.”

Nali looks to General Hux and asks, “what do you think happens, sir? When we pass?”

Hux gives a strange look to Kylo through a side-glance then pushes away his unfinished plate. He takes a sip of his water and then taps his gloved finger against the glass.

“Your theory would suggest that our consciousness and the ‘spirit,’ of a person exists in the _energy_ that forms the experience of time. Let me ask you, Officer Vitaan – if fire is not a gas, liquid or solid, what is it?”

“Fire is energy,” Nali replies readily.

“Yes. Fire cannot be contained and kept indefinitely, though. It is only there as long as the reactants are present. Fire is energy, and energy is not matter because it has no mass, so the idea that it cannot be destroyed may not apply. When a fire is extinguished, it is no longer raw _energy_. It changes form, but the _form_ from which it changes is the exact form you use to describe the sentient experience of time. If that is extinguished – even if it were to change form, it would no longer be active energy or recognizable as our consciousness. I personally believe we decay and we return to the cosmos or ground from whence we formed. As for consciousness – I don’t think death allows for furthered consciousness. I think that once death comes, it claims what it has always been meant to and we are delivered into oblivion.”

“Oblivion is an impossibility in the natural world. You are forgetting, General, that nature abhors a vacuum,” Phasma says casually.

Hux stares at her with an unreadable expression, “and yet here we are, traveling through one.”

Phasma tilts her head, smirking, “fair enough.”

“Why must fire be only energy or matter?”

All heads at the table turn to Kylo and he elaborates, “I never… finished primary schools, so forgive my ignorance, but I have operated under the impression that fire – or the physical manifestation of fire – was a process. Are matter and energy not… inter-convertible?”

“Fire has no mass,” Hux explains, “Matter is all that takes up space and has mass. While fire arguably takes up space, it has no mass.”

“Why can it not be something separate altogether, then?” Kylo asks with genuine curiosity.

“As I said before, fire _cannot_ be contained and _kept_ indefinitely. It is only there as long as the _reactants_ are present. It is not self-sustaining,” Hux declares, as if that is the end of the debate.

Kylo does not hear an answer to his question in Hux’s response; he is unsure of whether or not that is purposeful or he is just not seeing the answer Hux is presenting to him.

Phasma holds a hand up to Hux, looking him in the eye, “that is not true, Hux. Nuclear energy is self-sustaining. The engineer in you knows that.”

“Because it is a _reaction_ ,” Hux argues, “Nuclear fire does not just _exist_ and sustain itself, it is an on-going reaction, which means it needs _reactants_ which means it is _not_ self-sustaining. As I said before, if the reactants are not present, neither is the fire.”

“Is a reaction not a process?” Kylo interjects.

Hux turns his head to Kylo, looking dangerous.

Kylo checks his feedback, wondering if he should veer off this topic or not. Hux is feeling defensive from the day – it would seem he is worn thin and just wants to feel like he’s won something. All of his conferences ended on poor notes and he is grasping at this argument; he wants them to heel to his view and give him this small victory.

Kylo briefly recalls being carried by Hux through the snow and dark and mocking him, so sure they were about to die. How, even through the innumerable emotions Kylo was going through in that moment, he held onto the joy of the meaningless and even childish victory that was his mockery of Hux.

“What do you mean by process?” Hux asks through gritted teeth.

“What if fire is matter _emitting_ energy in a self-sustaining reaction? That would fit all the qualifications you have all laid out, would it not? The argument that fire is matter – perhaps it only needs to take up space –"

“That is still _arguable_ –" Hux interrupts.

“- to be considered matter. The Captain has issued that natural law does not allow for vacancy, so the fire must take up some amount of space. I would know nothing about making an argument as to whether or not fire has mass, but I know about the Force. The Force certainly doesn’t have mass, but it still exists and takes up space –"

“Which is measured by midi-chlorians!” Hux interrupts again, gradually becoming more aggravated, “It still needs an active reactant to be present!”

“No,” Kylo replies smoothly, “The Force exists whether or not midi-chlorians are present or at work. Midi-chlorians only measure how strong something or someone is with the Force.”

“The Force cannot be used as energy without midi-chlorians, though,” Hux continues, hands turned to fists on the table, “The Force can continue to exist, but it is not _producing_ energy or being _turned_ into energy without active reactions that are ignited by use of the midi-chlorians!”

Kylo stares at Hux for a few beats, then asks, not unkindly, “do you fear death, General Hux?”

“Not at all,” Hux responds honestly, “All that can come from death is erasure. Death is not truly experienced by the one dying – it is experienced by those effected by the one dying. The thought of oblivion is rather… comforting to me, actually.”

Kylo looks to Nali and says to her, “I have spoken with spirits of men passed, through the Force. I believe too that the energy that forms us is never truly gone.”

Kylo looks back to Hux and says, “Captain Phasma’s point is irrefutable. Even if you choose not to believe my experiences with spirits through the Force, you cannot argue the reality that nature does not allow for erasure, only transformation.”

There is another beat of silence and then Kylo says, “General Hux, you once told me that you believe time is a flat circle. I have meditated long on this – I do not have the same view. Energy creates consciousness and then consciousness is molded by the experience of time, which you believe is circular and one-dimensional. As we discussed earlier, a circle is both a forward movement, a step on the path, and a constant return to the place of origin. This considered, would you not call that a self-sustaining process?”

Hux blinks and his tight jaw slackens just a little. His fists unfurl and Phasma looks in fascination upon Kylo. He keeps his eyes on Hux, though, who is holding his stare without seeing his eyes.

“… you have found a way to box me, it seems,” Hux says softly.

“All part of a strategy,” Kylo replies playfully.

Hux looks torn between expressing scorn or delight. It’s an odd expression, but Kylo decides it is handsome on Hux.

Most expressions are, in fact.

Kylo leans back in his seat, crossing his long legs, ready to be smug for having out-witted Hux just this once. The stretch of his torso births a deeply painful throb in his still-healing side, though, and while he wants to continue speaking, a memory stops him in his tracks.

It is a memory belonging to Ben Solo, and it comes over him like ice water down his back.

 

* * *

 

 

_He is small, smaller than Kylo can remember his body ever being._

_He is sitting on a counter somewhere, and a Wookie is speaking to him. Ben reaches out chubby hands and arms, grabbing gracelessly onto some of the draping hairs from the Wookie’s face._

_His father calls this Wookie “Chewie.”_

_Ben calls him this, and the Wookie is pleased; perhaps it is the first time Ben has called this Wookie by his name. Chewie gestures to himself, making an indistinguishable noise, then points to Ben and makes another noise. Ben understands – Chewie is pronouncing his own name in his language, and then pronouncing Ben’s name in his language as well._

_Ben laughs, thinking the noise is loud and silly and tries for a long time to imitate it; Chewie repeats the noises over and over, seeming more and more pleased despite Ben’s obvious inability to recreate the language._

_Chewie’s hands come to Ben’s face, stretching his mouth with furry fingers, encouraging Ben to be louder and somehow enunciate more._

_Ben decides he would rather try chewing on the proffered fingers and when Chewie says something in shock, pulling his hands away, Ben can hear Han Solo laughing somewhere nearby._

_“No cursing in front’uh the kid!”_

_Chewie yells something back to Han Solo and Han Solo replies, “yeah, well, the back of his brain won’t be so jelly-like for long. He’s supposed to start forming memories soon and I don’t want his first one bein’ you, yellin’ about bitten fingers. And go easy on ‘im, he’s just getting the hang of human language, alright? He’s barely got his vowel sounds down.”_

_Chewie responds and Han Solo laughs heartily again, “what can I say? The kid takes after his old man! Anything that comes too close to our mouths is ours. It’s a good rule of thumb for marking territory. It’s the Solo way. He’s already shaping up to be a fine man.”_

 

* * *

 

 

The memory falls away, but more was certainly said – Han Solo certainly expanded on that thought and when Kylo chases the memory for more detail, or for further explanation, it only becomes blurrier. It evades him.

The air around him shifts into something hotter. Frustration building.

“Excuse me,” Kylo says suddenly, standing from his seat, “I… need to meditate.”

He moves toward the door, and Hux stands up, his chair scratching against the floor with his abruptness, looking concerned.

“Are you –" Hux’s lips tighten, then he stops what he's about to say and asks instead, “Was it something I said? I mean no offense – it has been a tiring day, that is all.”

“You have not offended me, General Hux. I must go.”

Kylo glances once at Phasma, and once at Nali, nodding his departure and then walking out of the private room swiftly.

 _Why are you haunting me?_ Kylo begs the cosmos, _What is the meaning of this? A bird, being scolded – that Wookie – they mean nothing to me. They may have meant something to **you** at some point, but you are **dead**. Stop **haunting** me._

“Ren!”

Kylo is perturbed that he did not hear Hux’s boots on the ground before hearing his own name called. There is a sensation of having lost time – maybe only a few moments, but his mind feels loose, and clarity seems far away. He’s starting to feel sick.

Typically, when his head is so foggy, he cuts through the fog with his saber – the loud noises, the sensation of breaking, and melting, and destruction brings him back to his body. It grounds him. Unless he intends to kill Hux violently this very moment, he cannot release his anger.

He is deeply unnerved.

He turns around and sees Hux, a little short of breath.

“You – you walk fast. I’ve been sitting too long, I –"

“What are you doing?” Kylo asks, his patience thin and misplaced, angry heat bubbling in his swimming head.

“I… have you been summoned?”

“No.”

“… did you have another vision?”

“ _No_ ,” Kylo answers emphatically.

Thinking that is all the answer required of him, Kylo turns around again and starts walking towards his quarters. He is bothered to hear Hux’s boots close behind. Irritation and danger spreads over his body like a rash.

“Ren – what has happened?”

“Nothing has happened – I left a dinner early. Why are you so concerned?”

“I’m not – that’s not… Ren, you cannot storm out of a dinner and expect me to believe nothing has gone wrong.”

“Why do you care if something _has_ gone wrong!?” Kylo growls, whipping around to face Hux, using the few inches of height he has over Hux to look as ominous as possible, “I am going to my room, I am going to meditate, or do you need a play-by-play of every moment I experience from here to my room?”

Hux’s eyes are wide for a split second, but he schools his features quickly. There are nearby stormtroopers that have overheard the argument – they are rounding the corner to see if the General is need of protection.

This only fuels the growing rage in Kylo.

_The **audacity** – I have sworn my undying allegiance to Hux and yet everyone is so concerned for his safety! As if those troopers could ever stop me, even if I ever **did** want to hurt him!_

“Ren. Stop being dramatic – what has –"

“I have had enough of being spoken down to by you today!” Kylo shouts, his voice modulator crackling with the volume.

Hux turns rigid, his brow furrowing.

“Are you inside my head right now?” Hux asks.

“No,” Kylo replies heatedly.

“Well, listen to it.”

“I am not a party trick! I am Knight of Ren! I will not –"

“Just listen!” Hux orders.

Kylo grits his teeth and where he usually brushes against Hux’s frontal lobe gently, he pushes himself in violently. Hux stumbles back a step, disarmed by the force of Kylo’s intrusion that is typically more careful, but Hux is also further frustrated by the show of violence.

_I am not trying to incite you, you buffoon. I am trying to see if you are okay._

_When has this ever been a concern of yours?_

_Are you joking?_

_I do not require a sitter, General – as it turns out, I’m quite capable of showing myself to my room and taking care of myself._

_So something **is** wrong._

“Enough!” Kylo barks, turning around again and storming further down the hall.

Still, Hux follows, picking up speed, and Kylo is very near hurting Hux. Or attempting to.

“Ren!” Hux calls, but Kylo does not respond.

He turns a corner and Hux follows diligently, every step sounding more sure of its power and more aware of how unwelcome it is.

“Ren – will you just acknowledge me for a second?! Allow me to fix whatever has –"

“ _Fix_?” Kylo scoffs coldly, twisting to look down at Hux; Hux stands tall before him, and if he is intimidated, he does not show it, “What do you think you are capable of _fixing_ , General? Until a few cycles ago you had no understanding or appreciation for the Force at all – you cannot heal as I heal, you cannot foresee as I do, you have no power where I have it in surplus, you –"

“No, I have no lightsaber to fight you with, I have no telepathic abilities, I cannot construct time and space as I see fit, but I did manage to save _your life_ when you couldn’t even bring yourself to _care_ about it,” Hux hisses furiously, “Perhaps I cannot heal as you do, but that does not make my hands useless – I am skilled where you lack, educated where you are ignorant, dignified where you are uncontrolled and do not mistake my power for anything other than the hard-earned glory that it is.”

Hux glares at Kylo, something buried deep in Hux showing itself in the multitude of blues in his sharp eyes.

“You were born into power, and even if I had no knowledge of your history or powers, I would be able to tell by how self-centered and spoiled you are – as all men who are born into power present. **_I_** had to _fight_ for my power. I had to crawl, climb, kill, bleed, sweat and prove myself time and time again worthy of the power I now wield. Do not mistake for one moment that I do not know what it is to struggle. _Stop_ underestimating me.”

Kylo can sense Hux’s migraine returning.

He cannot get to his room.

He cannot kill Hux.

He cannot destroy anything nearby – but the feral animal in him is thrashing about, and he needs to direct the fire somewhere, so he directs it at Hux.

“The little boy screaming was in your throat.”

Hux cocks a brow, “… what?”

“A young boy – could be no older than twelve standard years, screaming, and crying, and throwing up onto the ground.”

Hux’s face pales as recognition splays over his expression.

“What are you… you… you said _you wouldn’t look_ –"

“I didn’t need to,” Kylo tells him coldly, “Memories exist in the mind _and_ the body. The memory came to _me_ – the anxiety I healed you of today was centered in your throat. The same throat that screamed, that cried, that regurgitated in animal _fear_.”

Hux takes a step back just as Kylo takes one forward.

“What made you so sick, General? What made your throat so raw? What were you shouting, Hux? And at who? Or who for?”

Hux’s shoulders rise up to his neck in blatant anxiety as Kylo advances on him.

“What were you shouting as your father turned his back to you?”

Hux’s eyes are white and round, his heart is pounding and his nausea has returned.

“I…”

In his mind's eye, Kylo suddenly sees the four eyes of the mother bird Ben Solo aided.

She looked so hunted – so defeated, so frightened and alone. So hopeful that Ben would help, but still so fearful that he would wound her or her baby. Ben Solo felt for that mother bird so deeply.

Kylo can see that mother bird’s eyes in Hux’s now.

Kylo’s throat suddenly loosens, something thick pouring down and out into his chest, over his heart, making everything feel heavy and sick. The sharp noise of his anger is suffocated by this strange magma Kylo has never felt before.

He touches Hux’s mind without permission.

_\- he said he considered me his friend friends are not real they have never been I am a fool he is dangerous he may be useful at times but he is not worth the risk you can feed a junkyard dog fine steak every night for all his life but he will remain a junkyard dog biting you as soon as you try to pet it this entire day has been one disaster after another with short interludes of bizarre Force magic but he is just another rabid animal and always will be he will bite me if I get too close and this is too close too close too close too close -_

Kylo pulls away – the stream of consciousness is undoubtedly still playing like a broken record in Hux’s head, but Kylo has overstepped the boundaries he himself put in place. He never should have listened.

His body seems unbearably heavy very suddenly.

His helmet is short of air.

He is compelled to reach out and touch Hux.

“The –"  _Wookie that shot me was close to Ben Solo, Ben Solo is haunting me this evening, taunting me and I should not have taken that out on you_ –

“This shadowing experiment I think we can both agree has ultimately been a failure.”

Kylo doesn’t recognize Hux’s voice for a moment.

It is not the voice of Hux.

It is the voice of the General.

“I –"

“No need to discuss this further," Hux says over him, as if Kylo had said nothing at all, "It was an interesting experiment, and I encourage all who I meet to try everything at least once, but we should not do this again. In fact – I would like for you to keep your distance from me from here on out. Working on the same ship will inevitably have us bumping into one another, but let’s leave it at that. Best of luck in your meditation, Lord Kylo Ren.”

Hux turns away and with a cool, aloof pace, begins to walk militantly back toward his dining room, where Kylo can sense Nali and Phasma are still waiting.

Weak and distracted, Kylo reaches out with the Force before using his voice.

He hears that child screaming again, garbled sobs, half-formed words.

There is a child Hux used to be. A poltergeist Kylo has pulled forth from its resting place – wherever in the organized caverns of Hux’s mind that may be.

Kylo steps after him, “Hux – the gala –"

“That’s _General_ Hux,” Hux replies, looking over his shoulder, “And forget about the gala. I will tell them you attended with me, and you can consider your life debt repaid.”

“You won’t be _alive_ to tell them _anything_ if you remove me from your guard,” Kylo argues worriedly.

Hux laughs in that cold, detached way Kylo finds eerie, “believe it or not, Lord Kylo Ren, I did actually have a life before you stormed into it. I existed before you bled into my life, destroying valuable equipment, torturing and abusing personnel, and I will continue to exist even when I am not within your field of vision. I am more than capable of protecting myself. If I feel any doubt, I will have the Captain attend the gala with me. Goodnight.”

He turns again and Kylo gives chase, trying to get ahead of Hux so he can block his path, “that was – I didn’t mean to –"

“You absolutely meant to,” Hux intercepts with dark finality, stopping again and looking directly into Kylo’s eyes, behind the slits of his mask, “You _meant_ to. I will not be held hostage by you. I should not have gambled on this.”

“I do not want you to be my hostage, I only want to serve you –"

“You are a liar, Lord Kylo Ren.”

Kylo is inexplicably wounded by this.

“Don’t fret – the best of us are. Men with power are not to be trusted. You are no different.”

Kylo can sense that Hux was beginning to think otherwise, that Kylo was an exception to a rule he long accepted as fact.

“I am… I am not – Hux –"

“ _General_ ,” Hux corrects again, sounding short and curt, “Lord Kylo Ren, I committed innumerable noteworthy acts to obtain and secure my position and power. There are mistakes I have made, actions I wish I had not allowed my body to make, secrets I should not have kept, secrets I should not have told, levers I should not have pulled. I have many regrets in this life.”

Hux pauses meaningfully, then looks away from Kylo, into the middle distance ahead, “do not make yourself my greatest of so many.”

_He is trying to wound me as I have wounded him..._

_I have wounded him._

Kylo reaches to either side of his helmet, removing it and revealing his eyes to Hux, but Hux will not look into them.

“I am troubled. I didn’t mean to –"

“That you are troubled has never been a well kept secret, Lord Kylo Ren. The pathway to Hell is paved with good intentions, yes, yes, I know, I’m sure you meant no harm,” Hux says, without believing a word he is saying, “You were right about Starkiller. I didn’t have to go myself. I could have sent troopers to secure your body or I could have left you to perish on Starkiller. There was no reason for me to linger in the med bay. There was no reason for me to aid the droids that dressed your wounds. I will not make these mistakes again.”

“Look at me, Hux,” Kylo mutters, feeling desperate, “Please, I – I apologize. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“There is no need for you to be sorry, Lord Kylo Ren,” Hux replies unfeelingly, “You have been the man you were destined to be. The man you have promised to be since we first met. For endless cycles now, you have bragged about the greatness of your destiny, how far-reaching it is beyond the First Order. You have been one person and no one else. It is I who erred.”

Hux sighs and continues, “I am the one that deluded myself into believing you were something other than what you presented to the galaxy. I invited the danger of your company. A mistake I cannot make again.”

Kylo briefly contemplates washing Hux’s memory of the last ten minutes, but that would be a horrible deception. That would confirm Hux’s claims; that he is disloyal, dishonest and untrustworthy.

Kylo has never wanted to reverse the hands of time so terribly before.

With nothing else to argue, Kylo kneels before Hux like a servant, his helmet tucked under his arm, his eyes open and imploring as he looks up to Hux. A flicker of hope is ignited in him when Hux looks down to him.

Hux’s eyes are distant and unreadable.

Hux is not present – Kylo can sense this. Hux is somewhere far away, smothering a screaming child somewhere deep in his psyche. Kylo wants to bring Hux back to his eyes. He is at a loss, though.

“I failed you.”

“You attacked me.”

_A green lightsaber gliding through the air, meeting Kylo’s red. There is danger. Imminent danger. All Kylo can see is the green glow of the unfamiliar lightsaber._

Kylo shuts his eyes and shakes his head, shame flooding behind his eyes, “no – I … please, if nothing else, please let me attend the gala with you. I must protect you. Let me repay my life debt. Let me guard you. Please. Tell me how I can redeem myself.”

“Get up.”

Kylo picks his head up only to find Hux sneering down at him. He finds he cannot stand in the face of Hux’s open disdain.

“This is pathetic," Hux declares, "You have no choice but to accept my rejection. This discussion is closed. Go. Meditate. Do whatever it is you so needed to do and do not bother me with any of it again.”

Hux walks past Kylo and Kylo stands up, holding his helmet between his sweating palms.

“Your illusion,” Kylo pleads to Hux’s retreating back, “I… I promised to show you your illusion. After dinner. Please…”

“I think I’ve had my fill of magic tricks,” Hux replies, still walking away without so much as a second glance, “Goodnight, Lord Kylo Ren.”

He turns the corner and Kylo considers going after him, but he is at a loss for words. The pleading, the apologies, the sincerity – it means nothing to Hux. Kylo’s sight blurs, and not minding the troopers nearby who overheard, and some who even saw the interaction he just had with Hux, he slips on his helmet and moves quickly to his room.

When he makes it there, he throws his helmet carelessly to the ground, taking a small measure of relief in the loud, violent sound it makes against the floor. He shucks off his cape, ripping his gloves off and igniting his lightsaber. The raw energy of it burns his hands and the pain is a relief.

_Han Solo’s hand slips down the side of his face._

_There is so much Han Solo wishes he could take back, do over._

_He wishes so deeply to start again, somewhere at the beginning. Whatever that means. Wherever the beginning lies._

_The beginning is somewhere Ben Solo does not exist._

Kylo screams and tears into one of his walls with his saber, slashing indiscriminately and without purpose.

_Chewie so pleased to see Ben Solo mimicking his language._

_Chewie so devastated to see Han Solo fall._

_Chewie firing a weapon into Kylo’s side, his aim compromised by his mourning._

_Or possibly his mercy._

Kylo screams again, boring a hole into the wall, uncaring if it opens a vacuum into space and he is sucked out of _Aurora_ ’s safety and into the frozen nothingness Hux is so certain he shall return to.

_Lightning, heat, competition and impatience._

**_“Careful, Ren.”_ **

_Suicidal hate, pain numbed by shock, a wish to die mistaken for realism._

**_“A Knight of Ren mustn’t die of exposure, Lord Kylo Ren. It’s in poor taste - far too unremarkable a way to perish.”_ **

_Wide, remarkably blue eyes, flushed cheeks and a tone of wonderment._

**_“It would appear, then, that I am not the only noteworthy engineer aboard this ship.”_ **

_Perfect posture, perfect form, perfect hair and eyes and face, irritating, blessed perfection tightly wound and exuding small bursts of joy._

**_“Do not mistake composure for ease.”_ **

_An imagined kiss. Swords fallen. A feeling of being seen. Truly seen._

**_“You are… strangely beautiful, Kylo Ren.”_ **

_Smirked lips, full and rosy. A heavy heart but clear, icy eyes._

**_“I dare say you’re nearly tolerable today, Ren.”_ **

_Uncertainty, weakness, a pounding heart._

**_“Kylo…”_ **

_Gratitude. Gratitude. Gratitude._

**_“Thank you, Ren.”_ **

_Concealed fear, a child’s scream, hot tears down a face young with baby fat, a memory dug up like an ancient artifact._

**_“I would be grateful if you remained close…”_ **

_A feeling of being leaned on. Depended on. Trusted._

**_“Thank you. For standing beside me through that.”_ **

Kylo is on his knees.

He is uncertain how he got there.

The one desk in his room is now melted, glowing like lava and radiating unbearable heat. There are deep gashes in the wall.

He drops his disengaged lightsaber and goes to his closet. He pulls out Hux’s greatcoat and slides down to the floor again.

He wraps it over himself like a blanket – the odor of old blood cannot overpower the sharp and individualized scent of Hux’s skin. Kylo can sense the fine hairs at the base of Hux’s skull that brushed the back of this greatcoat’s collar. Kylo can feel and smell the cold wind on it, the way it billowed around Hux theatrically. He can smell _Hux_ , though, more than anything else. Like an ocean on a cold day at high tide, cologne applied very lightly and infrequently, musk – something distinctly masculine and uniquely Hux.

He leans against his partially shut closet door, sweating, exhausted from the cycle, and sure visions or nightmares or some combination thereof await him in the darkness behind his eyes. He is weak, though.

In more ways than one.

He sighs and the breath is hot and wet, but no tears come. He grips tightly to Hux’s greatcoat and falls asleep on his floor like that. Wishing, for once, he knew how to be a person. Wishing, as he has a thousand, million, infinite times that he did not feel so much.

Darkness envelopes him, but he knows more than that awaits.

He tries to convince himself he is a slayer of beasts, capable of vanquishing whatever will come from the darkness in his mind.

Somehow, without Hux’s throbbing jugular under his thumb and without Hux’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, that promise seems empty.

He surrenders to the rest cycle, to sleep, to whatever terrible visions may come. The way he always has.

The way he always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that energy/fire talk is probably totally inaccurate. But. Metaphors. Hope you enjoy the update <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for a chapter brimming with foreshadowing with more angst followed by more philosophy followed by emotionally constipated men trying their best to communicate???? If you are someone who is ready for a chapter such as this, read on. A particular trigger warning for this chapter is that Kylo experiences something like dissociation. It's not expounded on a lot, really just mentioned in passing, but still, tread carefully!

Kylo spends five full cycles in his room, meditating.

Once he woke to the endless dark of his room after his outburst, he undressed down to the black, skin-tight pants he wears under all his robes, then he draped Hux’s greatcoat over his own bare shoulders.

Centering himself was difficult for a while – maybe for an hour he struggled to let go of the physical world around him. The wall was still smoking, and the broken desk was an ugly clutter in his periphery.

Separate parts of his body were telling him to go find Hux and beg for mercy like he might to Snoke after displeasing him, but even that did not feel right. He was not Hux’s underling – he didn’t _want_ to be Hux’s underling. He wanted Hux’s forgiveness but had no tools with which to obtain it.

He told himself that if he left his mind open in meditation, surely he will find his answers.

He thought he was a lot like a person who prays to a God for guidance. He imagined Hux’s sneer, calling him “pathetic,” and pathetic he felt. He considered reaching out through the Force to other Knights of Ren, but he did not think they would understand, much less offer sound advice.

When he was finally in that deep meditation, it seemed like there was no way out of it until it ran its course - like a virus.

He relived the battle with the scavenger girl over, and over – at first, revisiting the battle over and over was like twisting a blade in his back. However many times he relived it, though, maybe after the hundredth or two-hundredth time, it felt a little more like a knife being slowly inched out from his skin. Still painful, still too gradual, still too deliberate, but there was less blade and more air. It was progress enough.

He relived the battle until the shame was a numb, open wound. He didn’t know how to dress it, so he left it to the open air.

Ben Solo’s memories bubbled up to the surface of Kylo’s mind like blood in the water, muddying his clarity and making him sweat with discomfort and rage, ruining the placidity of bleeding out his shame.

At times, he could hear General Organa’s voice, clear and comfortable with its own presence there. He could feel her as if she were right behind him. His kinesthetic sense was always heightened in meditation – when he was younger, he would sometimes accidentally create his own illusions in deep meditative states. He would get lost in worlds he created – worlds where Ben Solo still existed. Worlds where Ben Solo could leave his grave and come back home.

_Ben Solo would not hug General Organa when she sent him away._

_He was so crestfallen and resentful – while Ben Solo sometimes doubted his father’s love for him, he had never doubted his mother’s. She seemed wary of his powers at times, she hid truths from him, but he did hide truths from her as well. He believed it was his father’s idea to send him away to become a Jedi, but it was at their parting, upon his asking, that his mother took claim of the idea._

_He felt so betrayed by her and so validated in his concern that he was unwanted._

_“Ben, please – don’t be this way. You know we love you. We only want what’s best for you, and your uncle can help. This will be good, I promise you.”_

_Han Solo muttered something about a boy’s place being with his family, and Ben’s mother smacked him in the chest, saying something like, “stop it. We talked about this. It’s the only way.”_

_She had watery eyes and Ben could feel her hesitation. He wanted her to heed that worry – he wanted her to so fear his absence that she would change her mind and tell him it was all a mistake. Shuffle him home, bake him something sweet, read him something until he could fall asleep, sure he would wake in his own bed, in his own home the next morning._

_She didn’t, though._

_When the pod arrived to take him away, she outstretched her arms and he did not walk into them as he may have weeks or months before._

_“Please, Ben. It will be so long until we can see you again. I know you are upset, but I am doing this because I love you. **We** love you.”_

**_Lies. All lies._ **

_Ben was weak, though. He was going to cry. He bit his lip and shook his head. His mother made a wet sigh, her arms falling a little and she said again, “please, Ben. Please, come here.”_

_He thought of walking forward, going to her, and he could sense Han Solo too wanted to ruffle his hair affectionately as he often did. The thought of being on the cusp of home and then being dragged back from it was too painful, though. He was being abandoned. He was unwanted. People who loved each other did not send one another away._

_The shuttle announced its departure._

_She asked him to hug her before he left, pleaded with him one last time, but Ben refused and boarded the pod without touching either of his parents again._

Kylo cannot find a memory of the last time Ben touched his father or mother. He doesn’t want to find one anyway.

He remembers first meeting General Hux – how they both stood before Snoke. Snoke openly forbade Kylo from entering Hux’s mind “without reasonable cause.” General Hux had rolled his eyes at that – as if he doubted Kylo’s abilities, and Kylo wanted to enter Hux’s mind right then, just to spite him. He would not disobey Snoke, though.

Kylo notes absently that Hux’s hair was shorter then.

He sees the green lightsaber again while he meditates. It cuts through the air and lands hard against Kylo’s saber. There is a muttering; someone’s heart is pounding. There are several hearts. All of them are pounding. He hears a strange, unfeeling laugh and then another memory comes to him.

After a mission with the Knights of Ren, Kylo returned to the _Finalizer_ and saw General Hux, his greatcoat and uniform jacket removed, his collared shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was crouched with two other officers, examining the wiring of a malfunctioning control panel.

Hux’s face was calm concentration, so collected and studious. His arms reached out and extended into the box of the open panel. He told one of the officers that he thought he’d “be done with gripes,” once he was out of the Academy.

The officers laughed and agreed with him – Kylo wanted to know what a 'gripe,' was, but found himself too embarrassed to ask. Too embarrassed to admit he wanted to know what a gripe was. That he took an interest in the things General Hux said and did at all.

Hux ultimately solved whatever wiring issue was wrong.

Kylo ultimately destroyed that particular control panel during a fit of rage.

Kylo recalls the veins in Hux’s arms, the lines of his knuckles, fingers and wrists.

In the theater of his mind, he sees Hux’s thin wrist, his hand elegantly curled around the stem of a glass. The lighting is bright, the room is very pale yellow with white, statuesque crowning along the ceiling, the floors are marble, the windows tall and they expose the glittering night outside. Wherever Hux is, there are three moons high in the sky. The cuff of his white jacket has gold stripes, the buckle of his belt, the shimmer of his medals, his buttons and shoes – even the glistening of his hair seem to sparkle in the light of the hall.

His cheeks are flushed, his heart is calm and Kylo wants to stand closer to him. He gravitates towards Hux, unsure if he is physically there or just an energy following Hux like a ghost – then Kylo hears something clicking into place.

The gala.

He is at the gala.

Someone is about to fire the blaster and Kylo swivels his head around, trying to find the offender, but the vision fades away and Kylo sees Angels.

He opens his eyes, breaking from his meditative state, and knows what to do.

Some of his hair is plastered to his face, his body has a film over it – sweat, collected dust, whatever it is in the air of his room that could pile on him as he remained motionless for so long. He stands unsteadily at first, blood rerouting and trying to circulate normally again. His stomach twists with hunger and his head aches.

He shuts his heavy eyes and seeks out Hux’s presence.

Hux himself has an indissoluble migraine; he is sparring with Nali as he promised to, talking about strategizing in close combat. Nali is overwhelmed with gratitude and concentrated on proving herself a worthy adversary to spar with.

Kylo thinks it’s, for lack of a better word, cute.

Hux could kill her before she could blink in surprise, and Hux appears to be going fairly easy on her. He doesn’t wish to hurt her – not too badly, anyway. They have been sparring for an hour or so and Hux has not allowed her to win; Hux is not presently thinking about it, but Kylo is able to tell he has sparred with Haas as well and allowed Haas to win two fights. Kylo is sure this is another strategic use of favoritism and ego-feeding, so he tries not to overthink it.

Phasma is overseeing the sparring and at times has intervened; she consistently has to remind Nali to keep her elbows tucked in.

Kylo wishes to be there with them.

He makes his way to his bathroom and sits in his shower stall – his legs are still weak and aching from having stayed crossed and still for so many hours.

It has been over one hundred and thirty hours since Hux walked away from him.

Most of that time, it would seem, is lost.

Kylo has dissociated before, has since early childhood, but for so many days to pass with such little memory of what the universe offered to show him during meditation disturbs him.

Once he is clean, he dresses and has food brought to his room by a droid.

Once that is done, he waits for Hux to find himself alone. When he does, Kylo leaves his room to corner him.

He stands in the doorway of the gym where he and Hux sparred and where Nali has just left with fresh bruises and an eagerness to improve. Phasma and Nali are gone, and Hux is dressed down, stretching and hoping it will somehow ease the pain in his skull. He knows it won’t, but still hopes.

“General Hux.”

Hux turns around, “you are still on board?”

Kylo’s brows curve, “yes. Where else might I be?”

“I haven’t the slightest,” Hux replies, cracking his spine by leaning back, then turning his head sharply both ways to crack his neck, “It has been several cycles without destroyed equipment, thespian outbursts and that hideous bucket, so I thought you may have left.”

“I went to my room,” Kylo says, “I told you – I went to meditate.”

Hux’s brow furrows, “… you’ve been meditating this entire time?”

“Yes.”

Hux opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. He shuts his mouth, reevaluates and then says, “right, well, what do you need? I can’t imagine you’ve sought me out to spar.”

“I would very much like to spar with you, General, but I’m currently too weak.”

This admission more than anything seems to unnerve Hux. Kylo reads Hux’s body; he has not eaten for hours, unsure if he’ll be able to keep it down for the pain in his head. He is tempted to ask Kylo to cure him, but he won’t. He thinks he can hide this pain from Kylo and Kylo is willing to pretend he doesn’t know.

“I do, however, need your accompaniment. We need a travel pod and we must depart as soon as possible.”

Hux’s posture straightens and the personal concern wipes from his face, “I was not summoned by Snoke – did he tell you something? Where are we going?”

“No,” Kylo responds simply, “This matter does not involve Master Snoke, and I would keep it that way.”

Incredulous and incited, Hux glares at him.

“Are you serious? You think I’m just going to get into a travel pod with you, and go off-ship for no _reason_? Somewhere you could just kill me and leave me to float? You must be out of your _fucking mind_ if you think I –"

“General,” Kylo interrupts, “a score must be settled.”

This doesn’t seem to click anything into place for Hux and Kylo knows he has to play this game very carefully to get what he wants. Phrasing will be significant. So will silence.

“You’ve a cat. I have Angels.”

“What?”

“I will secure the travel pod. I expect you at the dock in an hour. Time is of the essence.”

Kylo leaves the room in a hurry after saying that, his hands curling and uncurling nervously. He touches at his lightsaber, but it doesn’t unwind the tangled sensation in his chest. He wanted to be closer to Hux, he wanted to remove his helmet and look upon Hux with naked eyes, but he has not yet earned that privilege back.

As he is headed to the dock, he very literally bumps into Haas.

Haas fumbles with his holopad to keep it from falling to the floor and when he sees Kylo, his eyes slant.

“Lord Kylo Ren. I was under the impression you had left _Aurora_.”

“No such luck,” Kylo replies coldly, weighing the pros and cons of murdering Haas and hiding the body in his room.

He suddenly realizes that Haas may be of use to him.

“Naos Haas – you spoke of studying General Hux’s battles. One in particular, on Polmanar. Where can I access this information?”

Haas looks confused momentarily then replies slowly, “well, uhm… it isn’t exactly public record. I’m quite sure I could access the files for you, though. The First Order takes great pride in the General – I’m sure I can find some of his battle history in the system. Please, follow me.”

Kylo doesn’t need to read Haas’s mind to know this is an act. Haas knows that if he offends Kylo, Hux will be displeased. Or he is, at least, under the impression that this is still the case. Kylo isn’t about to correct him.

There is a shared office space where files are neatly categorized and some officers come to study or pull up data for relevant conferences. This is where Haas leads Kylo – Kylo has no military identification or clearance level, he is not in their system. Haas is, though. The speed with which Haas is able to pull up Hux’s files speaks to how often he has revisited them.

The holo-records pulled up have photographic documents attached to them. Haas reveals three records pertaining to the battle of Polmanar. Most of the information is statistics – what troopers were lost, what officers were lost, how the entire battle played out, but that is far from what is most fascinating.

Like a posed portrait, there is a holo-photo of Hux, only Major Hux at the time, in a white uniform jacket with black trimming. The white is smattered with blood and soot, his black pants are tucked into his combat boots and his hair is very, very short. His back is straight, his body an icon of control. There is a heavy blaster pistol tucked neatly against his hip on his belt, there is a sizable blaster rifle slung over his shoulder and in his outstretched arm, he is firing a DH-17 blaster pistol (stolen, by the looks of it).

There are troopers swarming around him, some running, some fallen already, but that’s not what takes up the majority of the screen.

“Is that an acklay?”

“Yes, it is,” Haas replies, “It is a truly inspirational story. Hux’s squadron had been living in trenches on Polmanar where a Resistance base was forming. Apparently, acklays are native to the area and not only did General Hux find himself one and tame it, but he rode it into battle and beyond the battle ground.”

“What do you mean?” Kylo asks, leaning in closer to look at Hux’s unrecognizably young face.

“He used that acklay to trample through the enemy camp and rescue three prisoners of war. He lost forty troopers and four officers in that battle, but the three prisoners he rescued were very near death – he secured them onto his acklay and ran back into the No Man’s Land on foot alone, firing at all the rebels that came close. Even when he made it safely back to the other side and delivered the P.O.W’s, he returned to the battle and fought valiantly until the last man had fallen. The victory was an enormous success, the base was destroyed and our prisoners were retrieved with time enough to save their lives.”

“And he was only nineteen…” Kylo remarks, mostly to himself.

Haas hums in agreement, “yes. Some would have you believe that his legacy lies with Starkiller, but he is so much more than his latest and greatest war machine. There are countless recorded battles I could show you – so many and General Hux never once sat behind a desk to watch it unfold. He was always on the ground with his troops, raining destruction upon our enemies like a hurricane. If the men following him did not sleep, he would not sleep either. If the men following him could not eat, he would not eat either. He is truly a captain to go down with his ship – when he puts his faith in someone or something… it is a compliment of the highest order. General Hux is so talented and so genius. I sometimes worry that his genius is wasted here, among the mortal. He would make a fine Emperor, though.”

Kylo sifts through a few other files quickly – all victories and unlikely rescues. One battle Hux lead as Brigadier General lasted four hundred hours all told – this, apparently, was one that required less brawn and more brain. Kylo didn’t even read the names of the men that died at Hux’s strategy – they were dead the moment they challenged Hux to a battle of the mind. In those photos he had a different uniform on - dark blue maybe, though the recordings are grainy and it is hard to tell. Kylo is sure the dark blue uniform complimented Hux’s eyes artfully. His rapier hangs from his waist in those photos, silver, elegant and regal.

_A fine Emperor indeed…_

Finally, Kylo understands what Nali and Haas obsess over. The General Hux Kylo knows is a man that paces the control room, puts biblical fear into those who make any errors in how his caf or tea is served, obsessively straightens his uniform where it needs no straightening and bows before Supreme Leader Snoke.

What Nali and Haas see – what all of the officers that obsess over Hux see is _this_ young man from the photos. The one covered in blood and none of it his own. The one riding a monster into battle and bringing it to heel before him. The one whose weaponry designs advanced First Order technology by decades in just his first five years in the fleet. The one so fearless, the one so certain, the one who wields the fate of his enemies with all the flourish he does his rapier.

He wonders what Haas and Nali and those obsessive officers might think of Hux if they knew the terror that shook the very marrow of Hux’s bones when faced with his father.

“Fascinating. That is all I needed.”

Kylo leaves the room after that – he can feel Haas’s disdainful eyes following his back as he walks away.

When Kylo arrives at the dock with the pod at the ready, he is almost certain Hux will not show. Never willing to stain his record of punctuality, however, Hux proves him wrong by arriving just thirty seconds to the hour.

“Whatever this is, it better be worth my time,” Hux snaps, begrudgingly boarding the pod.

Kylo doesn’t speak to Hux as they travel – it takes uncounted hours to arrive, which Kylo spends resting, his mask secured so as not to offend Hux. When a planet comes into view through the viewport, Hux leans over the panels, close to Kylo’s side and he asks quietly, “where have you taken us?”

“We are approaching Naalol,” Kylo answers.

Hux’s brows pull in curiously.

“This… what is this? All I know of Naalol is that, a long while back, the Empire lost a battle to the New Republic here.”

“That is really all that is remarkable about it – the mountain ranges are beautiful, but there is something hidden in Naalol.”

“You aren’t planning to kill me, right?”

Kylo checks to see if Hux is joking, but he’s not.

“No, I am not planning to kill you.”

Exhaustedly, Hux sighs and moves away from the viewport.

Upon landing, Kylo leads Hux through heavily wooded terrain – the trees are enormous, untouched by man and weapon for so long. The air is clean, and as they reach higher altitudes, Kylo notes Hux’s migraine worsening. He waits for Hux to ask him to heal it, but the request does not come.

After thirty minutes of wandering through the woods, Hux stops in retaliation and demands to know where he’s being taken.

Kylo looks up through the canopy of leaves above and explains, “I was twenty standard years old when Master Snoke sent me here. There was rumor of an old Jedi temple that might have contained something of interest to Master Snoke. He sent me alone to scour the planet. I was here for so long - I do not know how long. I did not mark the time as it passed, and there was no one with me to communicate with. I think I may have spent a full, standard year of my life here.”

Hux’s feedback indicates sympathy and confusion.

“I do not wish to lie to you. You should know that I can sense your concern despite your stoicism.”

Hux’s ears turn red and he scowls, “you’re reading my mind?”

“No,” Kylo answers honestly, “You project these feelings. I do not know what you are thinking, but I can sense what you are feeling. Why do you insist on hiding away your concern when it is only the two of us?”

“Why do you still wear your mask?” Hux counters.

Kylo stares straight ahead at Hux for a few beats and then acquiesces, “fair enough.”

“Composure, the greatest mask of unease, and Stoicism, the greatest mask of faith.”

Kylo looks into Hux’s eyes, eager to hear Hux speak more. Eager to have Hux’s attention once again.

“Stoicism is an ancient philosophical school that asserted detachment from fear and longing, resignation to fate and faithful performance of the duties given to one in the world. It proffered that the coming of our deaths should not instill fear, rather free us from fear altogether. Despite its inevitability there are fools who fear death and so live in constant torment. Usually for love.”

Kylo’s heart thumps in the violent way it does around Hux. It is strange to hear that word; “love.” It is strange to hear it after so long a time not hearing it at all and even stranger to hear it in Hux’s voice, from Hux’s lips. Kylo cannot recall the last time he heard the word “love,” spoken to him.

“In the experience of genuine love for another human being,” Hux continues, “we are compelled to believe in a loving and forgiving God who would grant immortality. Not necessarily for ourselves, but for those we love; to preserve the one we love from nothingness, from non-being. To practice Stoicism is to guard oneself against these inane and counterproductive ways of thinking.”

Kylo crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, “I will agree with you only in that the universe is without a God, without any guide or director. There is only the Force. All else is nonsense. But love is a feeling – not a way of thinking. To mistake thought for feeling and feeling for reality are common and sometimes lethal mistakes. Besides, to feel is what _makes_ the human experience human. Seems like Stoicism is more a practice in fearing the intensity of attachment. And if you remain true to Stoicism, you mean to tell me that you have never longed for something? That you are resigned to some… predestined fate? To which you must be dutiful?”

Hux doesn’t deign to respond to most of Kylo’s reaction, saying simply, “as I said before, time is a finite, flat circle. If you’d like to call that circle fate, feel free to.”

Kylo tilts his head to the other side, a smile tempting his unseen lips, “you have not answered me about longing, do not think it will escape my notice – you must have longed for something at least once. And moreover, there is no such thing as nothingness – the human soul expands past our mortal bodies and I know this with all certainty. We have been over this.”

Hux rolls his eyes and crosses his own arms, “that is absurd. As birth brought us birth of all things, our death is the death of all things.”

“It is not, though. I have seen and heard from others passed.”

Hux gives him a dry look, “through the Force, I presume?”

“Yes – why must you constantly undermine my power?” Kylo asks with a small measure of annoyance, “Why do you constantly doubt my reality – a reality I have shared with you?”

“Because in sharing that reality, you are the one that taught me the folly and makeshift nature of the Force,” Hux answers.

Kylo says nothing in response, confused, and Hux indicates he knows Kylo is confused by rolling his eyes more dramatically and unwrapping his arms to gesticulate while he asks, “what makes you so certain that whatever ghosts you’ve seen or heard are not illusions? Illusions created by you or someone else? Or not manifestations of wishful thinking? As you have taught me, Ren, our senses lie to us, reality is unstable and at times, entirely false through our mortal eyes. You only want to accept that you have control through the Force, but are unwilling to acknowledge that others have been strong as you are and stronger too – enough to fool even you.”

_Will he never see through my eyes?_

It is so frustrating to Kylo – among the Knights of Ren, one could transfer a memory or experience to the other without so much as blinking. Communication is so simple. There is an understanding between them all – they all know the cost of the power they wield, and they all know the mysterious ways in which the Force exists.

He wants Hux to understand this as well as he does, but he has no way of teaching Hux to be Force sensitive. He has no way of making Hux see the Force as magnificently as he sees it without altering who Hux is as a person, which he never intends to do.

“You just don’t understand. Your mind is an iron chamber you imprison yourself in.”

Hux scoffs, “ _I_ imprison _myself_? Perhaps you didn’t hear me – I do not fear death. I have acceptance, acceptance beyond death, acceptance beyond fear. And if our consciousness does go on, it would defeat the purpose of all individuality, it would void the unique experience of life that we make unique and chisel into the stone of time with the knowing that death is coming for us regardless of whether we live consequential lives or not.”

Kylo throws his arms up, “but you are the one that says we should not fear death!”

“I am not saying to fear it!” Hux replies, exasperated, “I am saying to accept it as an inevitability – all is eventually lost, Ren. Even golden things we wish would stay or carry on so that we might still love them. Have you ever had an irreplaceable dead?”

Kylo’s heart rate declines. He listens for Hux’s.

Forty beats per minute.

Strangely high for Hux. Kylo wonders if the altitude is having an effect on Hux. Or perhaps all this mention of love is making him uncomfortable.

“… I am not sure what you mean by that.”

“Tell me, Ren, have you ever heard the phrase, ‘after the first death, there is no other?’”

“No.”

“It is an end to an ancient poem -”

“And this is to do with –"

“It is _to say_ ,” Hux intercepts irritably, aggravated that Kylo tried to interrupt him, “that once _lost_ , a life is never regained. Never replaced. There is beauty in loss – our impermanence is what drives our time spent living. And if you ever genuinely love, you know that once lost, that one – the one you so hope continues on, the one you wish to preserve beyond death for the sake of your love is entirely and doubtlessly irreplaceable. The death of one loved leaves a cureless wound. This one loved – once lost, is never followed by another. The space they took up in the universe is vacated and cannot be filled with anything or anyone else. After the first death, there is no other.”

Kylo has certainly never heard this phrase and while he doesn’t want to believe it, he fears Hux is right in what he says.

“And if there is some sort of… justice or equilibrium to the universe as Nali postulated, do you honestly think men like you and me would be granted immortality? We are not golden, Ren. _I_ am not golden. Even if someone once made the terrible error of mistaking me for something golden, there is nothing beyond us now. What is here is all there ever has been, all there ever will be.”

“If there is nothing beyond us now, I myself will pave a road or build an illusion to continue on in.”

Kylo wonders belatedly why Hux chose the word “golden,” – it is poetic, even _flowery_ for Hux. He wonders if Hux is reciting this knowledge from an older conversation or someone else’s words.

Hux makes a soft noise – something sort of unguarded, even friendly. Kylo watches as Hux shakes his head fondly and replies, “frankly, Ren, if anyone is capable of rearranging the universe to fit his defiant will, I would not bet against you.”

At that, Kylo is immersed in pleasure – Hux has betrayed himself and Kylo could not be happier for it. For all this while Hux has tried to convince Kylo and maybe even himself that he is a stoic man, but he does have faith.

He has faith in _Kylo_.

“Would you tell me your name now?”

Hux quirks a brow. His headache is still a hammer against an anvil in his head, but that’s not what drains him of his typical energy. He gives off no anger, and instead, asks with sincere curiosity, “what spurs this? What is it I said that has made you think to ask me for the millionth time? I’ve tried to find a pattern, but I’m coming up blank.”

They stare at each other in silence for a while – Hux is patient, very clearly waiting for a definitive answer.

Kylo has one – it is half-formed and humiliating, however, so he doesn’t plan on telling Hux. If he is honest with himself, he asks Hux for his name whenever he feels… safe.

Even close to happiness.

That equation is blatant, though, and if Kylo admits out loud that to his mind, Hux’s regard brings him childlike joy and a sense of protection he should not need, he will have no way of taking it back.

He is not ready to share this.

“Come. Follow me,” Kylo says instead, “We are close.”

Hux doesn’t harass Kylo any further about the issue of his name, and Kylo does him the same favor. They walk for a while longer and Kylo picks up where he left off in his answer to Hux, sharing, “while I was here, I found many remarkable things, but none so remarkable as what I am about to show you. I was meant to report all findings, significant or otherwise, to Master Snoke upon my return, of course, but to this day, I have never told him of this place.”

Hux’s curiosity is piqued and he follows Kylo in companionable silence until they come to an open field. It is rocky, but there are trees all around, shrouding the stage in secrecy. They duck under some hanging vines and the planet’s single sun is angled just so, making the shadows stretch long.

There are countless statues.

All of recognizable men and women – mostly Jedi. Almost entirely Jedi. They are carved from stone and made smooth and glossy – the detail is incredible. They all look like they might begin to blink and speak.

The first statue Hux approaches makes Kylo stiffen in discomfort.

“This is your grandmother…” Hux says knowingly.

The plate she stands on reads; _Padmé Amidala, fallen giving life and endless love._

She is standing on bare feet, her dress with dramatic folds draping over her young figure, decorated with a floral pattern so soft-looking it belies the hard stone it is made from. Her face is serene, her eyes shut, but her lashes and brows so precisely carved, it seems almost as though she could open her eyes at any moment.

There are flowers in her long, flowing hair and while one arm is extended out with an open hand, the other arm is curled toward her heart. In that hand is a wooden-looking trinket Hux is visibly intrigued by.

Kylo has made no sense of it himself, so offers no explanation.

When Hux steps back from the statue, he can truly appreciate the art of her Angelic wings. There are four wings, all stretched out wide and Hux’s ice blue eyes sparkle in wonderment. Kylo admires Hux’s eyes as they move along the memorial of his grandmother. He has seen this statue many times in secret – it is not often he sees such open emotion displayed in Hux’s eyes, though.

Hux looks around at the open field and sees countless others – all with different forms of wings and set in different poses. Some statues are of more than one person and they all glitter in the sunlight, casting unending shadows.

“What… what in the stars is this place?”

“I’ve no idea,” Kylo admits, “I found this place while journeying the planet alone and every time I have returned, which I have done in secrecy, I have found more added to the collection. I sense no other living being on this planet. I do not know who makes these or why, but they appear regularly. I am even sure we could find one of Han Solo.”

Hux twists his head to Kylo, looking scandalized.

“Han Solo? So soon? And why him?”

Kylo shrugs, “most of my family tree is present. I don’t know why, but I am sure we could find him.”

Hux looks doubtful but interested and so they walk through the garden of Angels together – reading plates, gently touching at the feathers so accurately depicted. It would be eerie if it weren’t so breathtakingly beautiful.

After walking twenty minutes through the maze of statues, Kylo stops before one. Hux looks down and lo and behold, the plate reads; _Han Solo, fallen in hoping._

Han is young here as well – perhaps the age he married Leia Organa. He is down on one knee, one arm folded on his propped up thigh and the other touching the ground with splayed fingers; two simple wings drape his curled back, folded and downcast, his head facing up, though, a barely perceptible smile across his lips.

Kylo does not understand it.

He wonders vacantly if Ben Solo would have understood.

There is a very apparent empty space next to Han’s statue.

“This is where they will build General Organa, then,” Hux says without needing to.

Kylo considers pulling his lightsaber out and destroying the statue.

 _If cutting through his flesh did not stop the warring in you, it is highly doubtful that cutting through a poor imitation of him will garner any meaningful results_ , Kylo tells himself.

“Why… have you shown me this?”

“I don’t know.”

Hux looks to Kylo, openly puzzled.

It’s dangerously endearing.

“I just wanted to share a piece of myself with you.”

He hears Hux swallow nervously, sees the red rise up in his cheeks, ears and neck.

He takes his helmet off, glad to let the fresh air cool his face and neck. He looks into Hux’s eyes and says, “I hurt you. All day, I was being haunted by Ben Solo and when… at dinner, he taunted me with a memory I had never before seen. I was unprepared to deal with it. I wanted to get away, but had no way of… sharing this part of myself with you.”

Kylo shakes his hair a little, looking at the ground, “how do you share a part of yourself that is dead? Instead of telling you I needed to be left alone, I attacked you. This was wrong of me. Not because it is wrong to attack when wounded as all animals instinctively do – it was wrong of _me_ to attack _you_.”

_Because you are my friend. You are my only friend. You are the only one I have ever wanted beside me. Please, forgive me._

There is a long silence. So long, Kylo begins to wonder if he ever actually came out of his meditative state. But then he is shocked back into reality when he feels a bare hand brush over his forehead. He moves his eyes up and watches as Hux shifts a loose, black feather of hair from his face. Kylo feels the electricity again – the electricity that only stems from Hux’s fingertips. The electricity he is not so sure anymore he is the only one to feel.

“Why do you bare yourself to me like this?”

Kylo’s eyes flicker across Hux’s face, unable to choose a safe landing place.

“I could destroy you,” Hux mutters.

“Yes,” Kylo replies quietly, “You could. You can. You might. I… I trust you not to, though.”

Hux finally meets Kylo’s eyes and the tension is heavy. Kylo so badly wants to see into Hux’s mind, but resists the knee-jerk reaction to do so. There is something he wants more badly.

“I trust you,” Kylo repeats.

“With your life?”

“I trust you entirely.”

Hux’s heart is beating at eighty beats per minute and Kylo is worried he has done this all wrong, somehow caused Hux enormous distress. Before he can drive himself mad with worry, though, Hux extends his hand and rests it against Kylo’s chest.

“Your heart is pounding,” Hux observes.

“This is not uncommon in your presence.”

Hux’s fingers curl against Kylo’s chest and he wonders what Hux is thinking. He wonders if Hux will ever let him know. He wonders if he said something wrong - or something right. He wonders if this is what it means to be a person, if he's doing it right.

“Take me to the gala.”

Kylo needs to reign in every fiber of his being not to smile.

“It would be an honor, General Hux.”

“Hux is fine.”

Kylo’s eyes get stuck on Hux’s lengthy, opaque lashes and his heart thumps again when those lashes flutter and Hux’s eyes are looking into his again.

“Take me back to the ship. Get rid of this bloody migraine. Take me back to _Aurora_.”

Dutifully, Kylo nods, and then Hux adds, “as you said – I’ve a cat and you’ve Angels. It… is only fair that I share my cat with you, now that you’ve shared your Angels.”

“I’m going to meet Millicent?” Kylo asks, an undeniable smile in his voice, an inability and unwillingness to fight it.

“Yes. And you’re going to show me the extensions you made on my illusion. And you know, I’ve been thinking you should name it something. It is no ordinary illusion, obviously. It deserves a name.”

Kylo smirks, folding his hand over Hux’s on his chest, “is that so? What kind of name do you propose?”

Intriguingly, Hux’s face turns rather dark when Kylo’s hand touches his, but he doesn’t move away. He clears his throat and says, “not my own.”

“Again – thankless,” Kylo complains good-naturedly, “You are so ungrateful.”

Hux smirks, then smiles and then makes a single, barely audible laugh.

“Yes. I suppose I am.”

Unthinkingly and unapologetically, Kylo takes Hux’s hand in his and guides him through the maze of statues, back towards the pod they took. As they leave the field of statues behind, Hux says to Kylo’s back, “and, for the record – you’re forgiven.”

Kylo squeezes Hux’s hand and is rather shocked to feel Hux squeeze back.

                 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line Hux uses is from a poem by Dylan Thomas.
> 
> [theriseofthefirstorder](http://theriseofthefirstorder.tumblr.com/) is the incredible artist that gifted me with the beautiful arTWORK ; A ; (I AM ALWAYS CRYING)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter has a lot going on in it. Hux has some scars they discuss - a few self-inflicted. There is also a memory of Hux as a child that is meant to be fairly anxiety-provoking and upsetting. Those are the only appropriate trigger warnings I can think of. Hope you enjoy the installment!

In a turn of events that would shock absolutely no one, Hux’s quarters are spacious, minimalistic and organized meticulously.

Upon first entering his quarters, Kylo follows Hux through a sitting room where there’s a cocktail table and two holopads left on arms of his couch. Through there, the room opens up entirely and to the far left is an enormous, luxurious looking bed, a bedside table with another holopad atop it and the expensive looking sheets are tucked in with militant precision.

Kylo doesn’t know Hux to be an overly indulgent man; the bed feels like an anomaly. Kylo hones in on the bed, searching for intent like he might on a living person and finds his answers.

Beneath the cold sweats, nightmares, countless sleepless rest cycles of migraines – there is a sense of pride. Kylo can see clearly – a twin mattress, uncomfortable and thin. Hux being young and his legs already growing long – too long for the mattress he had, but no one would replace it with something more comfortable for him. Kylo cannot sense why. His blankets too short as well, couldn’t cover his feet. He spent his childhood in a bed much too small.

When he was able to obtain his own quarters and spend his own credits decorating it, it would seem he wanted to make a point.

To who, Kylo is unsure and does not investigate further.

A few feet to the right of the bed is a work desk covered in physical papers, several paper books, writing materials and office supplies. There is a small computer, meant only for listening to music. Kylo has seen them on the hips of young children – it is strange and misplaced among the other items of the desk. He wonders what kind of music Hux listens to and how he obtained such a device - and, more importantly, _why_.

Further to the right of that desk is a small bookcase fully stocked, a mini conservator which Kylo can sense is sparse, a closet bureau for his clothes, and then the refresher is tucked away in the corner. The refresher is also spacious – Jack and Jill sinks, thick towels stacked atop each other, a full-length mirror and roomy shower.

The shower has a bench protruding from the wall opposite the showered, it looks like dark marble inside, and everything about Hux’s living space is as regal as Kylo expected it to be.

The most striking aspect to Hux’s room is not his furnishings, though – it is the viewport. The viewport takes up the entirety of the far wall, opposite of the entry, which Hux’s bed rests against, the desk stands in front of and the whole room is lighted by.

Kylo takes a few moments to admire the view, then turns and walks to the bureau, looks in Hux’s closet, sees all of his uniforms neatly hanging, shoes stacked at the bottom and shining with perfection.

Kylo runs his fingers down the length of one uniform’s sleeve, admiring the clean, smooth feel and look of it, and then he hears Hux behind him, say, “Millicent – we’ve company.”

Strangely charmed, Kylo turns around to smirk at Hux and maybe mock him for speaking so formally to a cat, but as he goes to do just that, that very cat crawls out from under Hux’s bed. She has bright green eyes and red hair that apparently does not shed. She is thoroughly groomed, but she is no hypoallergenic purebred. Her stomach is white and so are the bottoms of her paws – she has white hair feathered out unevenly in her orange coat too.

She is not the kind of cat Kylo imagined Hux would want.

“Greetings, Millicent,” Kylo says politely to her, thinking that’s what Hux would want of him.

She sits down next to Hux’s feet, her fluffy tail curling around her paws, and she stares up at him.

Kylo and Hux finally meet eyes again and Kylo announces, “I have so many questions.”

Apparently unimpressed with his dry sense of humor (though he means it in sincerity), Hux rolls his eyes while Kylo removes his helmet and places it on Hux’s desk. Once his face is showing, he crouches in the hopes that Millicent will come close enough to pet, but she stays properly by Hux’s side, unmoving.

“Don’t take it personally,” Hux comforts him, “I’ve raised her well. She is wary of strangers.”

Kylo nods, but stays low to the ground anyway, keeping Millicent’s stare.

“I’m shocked you didn’t adopt a purebred. Where exactly did you find her again?”

“She wasn’t adopted.”

With a quirked brow, Kylo looks up to Hux, and Hux adds, “I told you. I stole her.”

“Yes, you took her from the planet –"

“No, she had a collar when I found her.”

Kylo’s brow furrows.

“What? You think _I_ came up with the name _Millicent_?” Hux scoffs, “She visited the base often. She was an outdoor cat. Her collar said her name, had an address on it and it also had engraved ‘I’m not lost, just visiting.’ Until one day I decided I quite cared for her and had her visitation turned to permanent residence.”

“So… she had a family?” Kylo asks, straightening up.

Hux’s eyes darken, but his lips twitch into a smirk, “ _you_ are not about to scold _me_ for being ill-behaved, are you, Kylo Ren?”

When Kylo says nothing, Hux cocks his hip to the side, crossing his arms and sighs.

“If her family loved her so much, they should not have let her wander. They ought to know there are monsters and predators always about – they are blessed that I have given her a life of luxury and not surrendered her to the wildlife that would have consumed her.”

Kylo redirects his attention to Hux’s desk and the stray papers, writing utensils and books. He expects to see blueprints of missile designs or equations, even diligent note-taking or shorthand reminders.

He sees instead, a partially completed rendering of the observation deck of the _Finalizer_. There are even recognizable officers in the picture – like a specific memory, a moment frozen, like a holo-photo. He looks to Hux, and Hux is looking at the ground, sharply aware of what Kylo is staring at, “care for a drink?”

“You draw?”

“It’s been known to happen occasionally.”

“How occasionally?”

“Whenever my migraines prevent me from focusing on my work, my hand has a tendency to wander.”

“Do you mind if I look more closely at it?”

Hux hesitates, looking sort of nauseous or otherwise unsteady. He eventually nods, though, and Kylo tries not to appear too eager in picking up the sketch. It is beautiful to him, skillfully portrayed. Every pencil stroke is so deliberate, but exudes patience. Kylo has a suspicion that Hux may have been working on this particular picture since Starkiller. The corners of the paper are a little aged and the strokes look layered, as if they have been gone over again and again, perfected over a long time.

He moves to pick up another paper and sees unfinished portraits; one of an officer Kylo doesn’t recognize, another of Phasma and one of Mitaka. He looks to Hux with some surprise over the portrait of Mitaka, and Hux shrugs, explaining off-handedly, “he has an interesting profile when in uniform.”

The other papers are abandoned silhouettes, some still life portraits of mundane things about his room and a few small sketches of Millicent.

“Have you ever drawn me?”

“No,” Hux replies, “Don’t get sentimental about it – people are just inherently more interesting to draw than the contents of my bedside table. It means nothing.”

Kylo is disappointed and it probably shows.

He is too tired to play any games with Hux and Hux seems to sense this.

When he picks up a portrait of someone he does not at all recognize and who wears no uniform or insignia, he asks, “who is this?”

The portrait is complete and the realism of it is gripping. Hux is talented in making the shine of human eyes glisten on paper. The portrait is from the waist up of a young man with dark hair and light eyes. He has a narrow nose, thin lips and a strong jaw – his hair is long enough to be tied back with a ribbon.

“That is my brother.”

“That’s right,” Kylo mutters mostly to himself, examining the portrait closely, “… you told me you had a brother. Is he not of the First Order?”

“He certainly would be if he weren’t dead.”

Kylo’s head snaps up, wanting to get some read on Hux’s feedback – he isn’t standing anymore, though. He is seated on his bed and using a jack to remove his fitted boots. He peels off his black socks and tosses them into a clothing bin by the foot of his bed.

He reaches for the buckle that stretches over his waist, but pauses. He looks at Kylo and asks, “…are you able to unbuckle this from over there?”

“You mean, through the Force?”

“Yes,” Hux replies.

“You want to see a magic trick, do you?” Kylo teases.

Hux scowls, “nevermind.”

“Oh, Hux, just admit to me that you’d like to see me perform for you. I’m happy to. Just ask it of me.”

Eyeing him with thick wariness, Hux mutters reluctantly, “I’d _like_ to see you use the Force.”

Obediently, Kylo lifts his free hand, and with an almost lofty, unthinking flick of his wrist, the buckle comes undone.

Hux’s feedback indicates surprise, despite knowing what would happen.

Kylo wonders if his ‘magic,’ fascinates Hux more than Hux likes to admit. He wants Hux to tell him so.

He wonders if Hux _wants_ to be Force sensitive.

He wishes he could make it so.

He wishes Hux were, and he could train Hux – he could help Hux build his own lightsaber. He wonders what color crystal Hux would prefer.

He imagines Hux wielding a blue lightsaber – ice blue as his eyes, wearing robes much like his own, and that half-realized daydream is so deeply satisfying.

It is meaningless to want for things unattainable, but still, he thinks of it. Thinks of standing next to Hux, both their lightsabers drawn, trading thoughts and visions, meditating together, feeding one another’s powers.

_We could rule the galaxy together._

That’s a treasonous thought.

Anxiety prickles under Kylo’s skin, and he hides that thought away – somewhere Snoke won’t go looking. If Snoke had seen, or heard that thought, he may have killed Kylo where he stands.

Kylo shifts his wrist, curling some fingers in lazily, and extending his middle and forefinger, easing the belt out of its loops, and holding it in the air for Hux to stare at.

Millicent jumps up onto the bed, and meows loudly at Hux, who replies to her, “yes, I know, Millicent. It _is_ rather…”

“Rather what?” Kylo asks after a few beats of silence.

“Enchanting,” Hux confesses quietly; this word is chosen very carefully.

That word means something to Hux. Something special.

Kylo does not delve into any memories associated with it – he just tries to appreciate what Hux has given him through the glimmer in his eyes and slight part of his lips.

Kylo moves the belt onto the bed, then places the papers down on the desk.

“He does not look much like you - your brother.”

“No, he didn’t,” Hux responds, undoing his uniform jacket, so he has an excuse to not look into Kylo’s eyes, “He had a different mother.”

Kylo looks around the room, eventually settling his eyes on the viewport. He inquires politely, “would you mind if I got comfortable? I’d like to stay a while. I’d like to ask you questions – questions you don’t have to answer, of course. But I would like to ask them anyway.”

“With a single condition.”

Kylo looks to Hux dutifully, ready for whatever his demand might be.

“Not a single one of those questions can be about my first name.”

Shoulders falling in dramatic disappointment, Kylo says sarcastically, “oh, well, then the evening is a waste, and I should probably leave.”

Hux gives a friendly chuckle, pauses in shucking off his jacket to stare at the floor for a moment, and after a few beats, Hux asks, “Ren, have you ever enjoyed, and been terrified of something, in equal measure?”

“Yes,” Kylo answers readily.

Hux picks up his head, and stares at him a while, then nods, and says, “alright. Well... I’ll change in the ‘fresher – feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

As soon as the door to the refresher shuts, Kylo looks to Millicent, who is staring expectantly at him.

“One day, I will make it so that Hux fears nothing at all; least of all myself.”

Kylo can’t help but notice some spark of understanding in Millicent’s eyes.

He likes Hux’s cat, he decides.

When Hux comes back to the room, Kylo is dressed down to his black pants and nothing else – all of his clothes stacked haphazardly onto the desk chair, his boots next to his helmet on the floor.

Hux seems fixated on Kylo’s feet while Kylo is rather fixated on… all of Hux.

He’s washed out whatever product is usually in his hair, and toweled his head dry enough – to see his hair so unkempt is peculiar, in a welcoming way.

Without his tight uniform, he looks even thinner and smaller than Kylo typically thinks him to be. He is in just some grey sweatpants, his uniform of the day draped over his freckled arm. It is difficult for Kylo to accept that these same arms carried him to safety when he could not even bring himself to care for living at all. He notices that both Hux’s forearms have lengthy, vertical, old scars on them.

Hux’s dog tags hang freely, catching light through the viewport. His clavicle is deep, defined, and his shoulders are actually rather broad.

Hux stops staring at Kylo’s exposed toes, and turns his back to Kylo to toss his clothes of that work cycle into his laundry bin, and then he moves to his bedside table to remove a threadbare tank top.

It's at Hux's bending angle that Kylo first sees the scar across Hux’s back, and can sense that Hux knows Kylo will ask him about it. Hux doesn’t seem all too bothered by the prospect, so Kylo tries not to feel bad for noticing it.

Once he has his sleepwear pulled over his head, Hux sits on his bed, and Kylo settles onto the ground, pretzeling his legs while Millicent curls up next to Hux. His hand settles behind her ears, and her purring is loud in the otherwise noiseless room.

“I noticed the scar on your back.”

“Yes, I realize,” Hux replies, “I don’t check it often, but it has faded over many years. I hope it wasn’t too unsightly.”

“Not at all. How did you come to acquire it?”

It’s a long, thin slash moving diagonally across Hux’s right backside. It seems unnatural - not something one acquires while playing games as a child, or working in the First Order military.

“In a fight with my brother.”

“Who was he?”

“Brendol Hux the fourth," Hux says drily, "Seven years my senior. We rarely crossed paths. He was in primary schools, and I was taught at home. I wasn’t exposed to the public until I was twelve.”

“Exposed?”

Hux tilts his head to the side, “Ren, for all the time we have known each other you have endlessly bragged about your abilities to obtain cosmic knowledge, and yet you know nothing about me?”

“I did not investigate your history for fear of growing attached to you.”

Hux’s face loses its good humor. His eyes seem to deepen somehow, or maybe the lights in them shift. His cheeks get rosy the way Kylo likes.

“And now?”

“I am deeply attached despite my efforts, and see no reason to deny myself your kinship if it is ever explicitly offered.”

Hux gazes at him a while, crossing his thin ankles and scratching Millicent’s head.

“Every time you say something like that, I instinctively believe it is a trap.”

“I know this,” Kylo tells him, “I sense your unease and distrust. I do not blame you for it. I can only imagine it was tirelessly carved into you over many years of betrayal or disappointment. Trust does not come easily to men like ourselves.”

“No... certainly not,” Hux agrees thoughtfully.

“So – tell me, what do you mean when you say you were ‘exposed?’”

Hux scrubs a hand through his red hair, mussing it more.

Something hot spreads in Kylo’s stomach at the sight of it.

The sensation is hard to ignore.

“I told you that I was born on an icy moon, in secrecy. This is because I was a lovechild. They kept me a secret for as long as they could.”

“The Commandant managed to keep a second child a secret from all the galaxy for twelve standard years?” Kylo asks disbelievingly.

“It certainly wasn’t made easy for him, with my tendency to wander the estate, and my childish hunger for interaction. I grew up mostly around droids.”

“Your mother?”

“I only met her once.”

Kylo nods, unsure of what to make of that response, “was that… good?”

He has no way of knowing how to ask such a personal question, and Hux knows this as well. Without use of the Force, Hux is reading Kylo just as well as Kylo is reading him.

Kylo thinks they are very synchronized, and he wonders again what it would be like to battle alongside Hux – on the ground, storming bases, digging trenches. He tends to think they would be synchronized there as well.

“She was kind,” Hux says absently, “I look like I may have budded off of her asexually, to be honest. I have all her features but her eyes.”

Tilting his head curiously, Kylo asks, “what color are her eyes?”

“Green. I think it is likely why I came to care for Millicent. Red hair, green eyes – not knowing my mother, I would not know what sort of conversations she would carry, so Millicent’s silent company is befitting. But – yes. They were green.”

“Were?” Kylo specifies, “Has she also passed?”

“I have no idea, actually,” Hux admits, “I met her that once and truly, I never heard from or of her again.”

There is a strong desire to reach out with the Force, and search Hux’s heart and mind for pain. Pain Kylo could perhaps alleviate.

The intrusion will not be welcome, though. Hux does not want for the pain to be soothed away like his migraines, and he would, as always, consider the violation of his perceived privacy as an insult.

“I do not remember Leia’s eyes.”

Hux looks to Kylo in surprise; he was not expecting Kylo to share anything about himself during this interrogation. Kylo is glad to prove him wrong.

“What do you remember of her?” Hux asks.

Kylo leans against the side of Hux’s desk, looking up and away, in search of a clear memory.

“Her hands, and her smile,” Kylo tells him eventually, “Her hands were feminine, but strong. She wore a ring, as Han Solo did. I remember the uneven lines on her knuckles, and the natural nude pink of her nails. The skin of her hands was uncommonly smooth. Her smile was placating. It calmed Ben Solo in his early years. I remember her voice as well. I occasionally have auditory hallucinations of her when I meditate. So often, I am entirely sure she is right there behind or beside me.”

Hux lets a moment of silence pass before asking, “how _did_ you meditate for five full cycles?”

Kylo meets Hux’s eyes again, and teaches him as Luke Skywalker once taught Ben Solo, “meditations and connections with the Force take however long they must. I was in search of something in particular, and only found what I was looking for in the time I was meant to.”

“The Angels?”

“A proper apology, and a way to extend myself to you,” Kylo corrects, “The Angels were the physical bridge, but I knew where and how to find the Angels. I did not know how to express my regret, and desire for connection. The Force presented the Angels to me as I sought the answers to those questions.”

“The universe suggested you show me a memorial graveyard as a way to connect to me emotionally?”

Kylo looks very seriously at Hux, and asks, “did it work?”

There is hesitation.

Hux’s eyes are phenomenally vibrant in the dim of his room. Kylo considers telling him about the dream he had several cycles ago – the one of stars, and quasars, and galaxies, all in his eyes. He fears Hux will kick him out, though. He’s unsure why he fears this. He decides to keep it to himself. For now, anyway.

“I suppose it did.”

“I would like to teach you how to meditate,” Kylo announces.

“What in the stars gives you the impression I have time to meditate?”

“You will make the time,” Kylo replies assuredly, “You find time enough for me and my 'magic.' I am sure you can find a way.”

Embarrassment turns Hux’s ears rosy like his cheeks, and Kylo is deeply pleased.

“And what purpose would this serve?”

“I will not always be with you, Hux. For the sake of your anxieties and migraines, I think meditation would help. If I am not there to cure you of them myself –"

“I thought you said you would remain close.”

Kylo’s brows spring up at the accusatory tone Hux takes with him.

Looking up and away, Hux clears his throat and expands more politely, “you said you would have me beside you. You _keep_ saying that, actually. Do you intend to stay or not?”

There is a thin undercurrent of fear in the room. Kylo despises that he causes Hux so much distress. He wants to be an oasis for Hux, not an unending sandstorm sharply biting at his eyes and lungs. He wishes he knew how to be something other than a blunt weapon.

“I am a Knight of Ren,” Kylo explains, “There will be times I must leave your company for other missions, for training, for councils with others. I hope you believe me – when I told you that if I could make you a Knight of Ren so that I might never have to be without you, I would. I meant that.”

Hux stands up, his anxiety spiking.

Kylo struggles to his feet, swaying a little – this cycle has been long, and his meditation had been even longer. He needs proper rest.

He’s unwilling to leave Hux yet, though.

“Will you ever tell me about the scar on your back?”

“I did already.”

“You told me your brother gave it to you, but not how.”

“Yes, I did, I told you – we fought.”

“Did you win?”

“Clearly,” Hux replies; Kylo can sense Hux’s desire to feel at his own back, to feel the scar there, to assure himself that it was real, “I’m still alive.”

Kylo’s brow pinches in bewilderment.

“Did you kill your brother?”

“I did what had to be done.”

Very suddenly, and without warning, Kylo is bombarded by the desperate screams of a child. He recognizes them. Hux, young, and brimming with unadulterated fear; hands and knees trembling, his body weak, and heart too fast – so fast he might faint. The garbled words come into clarity.

_“ **Don’t**! Don’t! Don’t make me **do this**! I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to, I don’t want – I don’t want to – I don’t want this! Please, please! I just, just – **please, don’t** –"_

_Somewhere else. Another time._

_There are tall trees, pungent plant life. Hux is in nothing but hand-me-down pants and tight-laced boots that are too tight. He is running – not always. He is sometimes hiding in a tree. He has a dagger in his boot that he knows he will use. He does not want to use it. He would do most anything not to._

_Well groomed grass, splinters in small hands. Somewhere else. Another time._

_There is a tall man in a dated uniform – the Commandant._

_“I don’t want, I don’t want to –" fitful tears, blubbering over round, freckled, childish cheeks; shaking lips, hands wracked with tremors so violent they spread through his small body like convulsions, “I don’t want to – father, **I don’t want to** – Brendol has never hurt me, I don’t want – I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to do this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this, please, **please** , I can’t -”_

_Night falls over the trees, insects buzzing by Hux’s ears keep him up all night, his heart pounding. Somewhere else. Another time._

_He hides for days._

_His brother is nineteen standard years old, and two feet taller than him._

_His brother is trained in basic combat._

_Hux has no such schooling._

_He knows Brendol is looking for him, that Brendol will find him and when Brendol finds him, Brendol will kill him._

_It is a different day. Somewhere else. Another time._

_There is an empty yard. The sky is blue and mostly cloudless. There is a wrestle for the dagger Hux has withdrawn from his boot. A wrestle Hux loses._

_He chases after his father’s back, screaming until his throat is raw, and scratched, for help from anyone, from anywhere, bile burning his esophagus, a fear unlike he’s ever known. More tears – **hysterical** tears – tears from deep inside him that have not come to the surface until this moment. Tears that have been bitten back for years. Tears that make him gasp and grip his stomach in pain._

_“ **Please** – I cannot –"_

_His voice is like broken glass, loud for how much he is crying, sounding sick and tortured._

_Another memory, a different time, a different place – the Commandant announcing he only needs one heir. There is a regal looking dining room, high arching ceilings, and no windows – the Commandant does not sit near Hux. Hux asks what it means – that the Commandant needs only one heir._

_“Accept and know your place, boy.”_

_“I have no place,” Hux replies; this answer is automated. This answer has been given many times. Countless times._

_“That’s right,” his father responds coolly, “That’s right.”_

“You are seeing something, aren’t you?”

Kylo pulls himself from the visions and audio. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry. A vision was pressed into me from you. Not all of them made much sense. I… do not know if any of that was true or not, but I fear it is.”

“I hope you do not think less of me for whatever you saw.”

This hope is sincere. Kylo is endeared to Hux for thinking any memory – especially one so vague and unclear, could alter his admiration.

“Let me show you your illusion. I have added some acres. There is a wild garden. I want to know what you would like added or taken from it.”

Hux gestures for Kylo to continue, and with a single deep breath, Hux’s quarters are thrust into an alternate plane.

The sun is warm, the babbling waterfall is nearby, but thankfully not spilling down Hux’s back. There are more trees, and the land stretches much further – the grass is soft and dark green. There is the smell of cotton and natural, floral perfumes on the air.

Hux looks around, his hands tucked in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“You really have made this much larger – this is quite impressive, Ren.”

Kylo extends a hand to Hux, hoping beyond hope it will be held.

Hux glances at Kylo’s hand, then to his eyes.

“Let me lead you to the garden. I want to show you.”

There are a few more brief seconds of hesitation before Hux pulls his hand from his pocket, and allows Kylo to take it in his.

“Why can I sense your heartbeat?” Hux asks, “Or am I imagining that?”

“I am allowing you to sense it,” Kylo replies, “Would you rather I not?”

“It’s loud.”

“Yes. Again, this is commonplace when you are present.”

“Why? Do you fear me?”

Kylo answers honestly, “I don’t know. My heart has done this a long time now while interacting with you. Ever since the collapse of Starkiller, actually. If I do fear you, it is the fear of all things beautiful that never stay.”

Hux’s face heats up, and his own heart thumps – Kylo is thrilled to sense it.

“Don’t… don’t mistake me for something golden, Ren.”

“Not all that glitters is gold,” Kylo replies, “I have never wanted for simple things – precious things. I have not mistaken you for something precious, Hux. I fear your absence anyway.”

“What would it mean to you? For my absence – to lose me?”

Kylo’s brows curve.

“What if it was me, and not you, that strayed from base as Starkiller collapsed? What if you had not found me in time? What would it have meant to you?”

Kylo searches Hux’s eyes for an answer – for something Hux wants to hear. Hux doesn’t seem to know what he wants to hear, though. Kylo’s fatigue is showing itself. His guards are down and he knows this, but has no energy to stop it. His focus is spread over Hux’s illusion and keeping himself upright. Honesty comes too easily.

“I don’t know that it would have meant something to me,” Kylo responds slowly, trying to imagine where he might be without Hux’s hand in his as it is now – he feels a tight anguish and want for destruction at the thought, “I think in your wake would have been an absence of meaning.”

_After the first death, there is no other._

Neither of them are sure which one had that thought, but both of them heard it and felt it somehow.

“Come and follow me, Hux.”

Hux nods and allows himself to be lead through the trees – light-colored moths and small, silent insects decorate the air and bark. Hux sees that bird again and says, while staring at it and walking past, “that bird – that bird, over there - is that the bird you healed as a child?”

“It is a bird from Ben Solo’s memories.”

“I – sorry. Sorry,” Hux says genuinely, “Is it the same bird, though?”

Kylo doesn’t answer, just keeps walking on and Hux says to the back of Kylo’s head, “I only ask because I noticed it the first time you showed me this – I thought to myself it was a strange bird I did not recognize. Is it the same bird?”

“Yes,” Kylo finally answers, “It is the mother bird, as I recall her.”

“As _you_ recall her?”

“Yes.”

Kylo doesn’t understand why Hux is smiling at his back or why it elicits chills – chills Hux can surely see. He doesn’t understand why Hux squeezes his hand more tightly.

“You know, I hate surprises.”

“You have never told me so, but that is something I could have assumed from your personality and line of work,” Kylo replies.

“I used to think excitement and surprises were the same thing. I am finding this is not true, though.”

“Were you not excited when you stormed Resistance bases? You know, I looked through some of your old holorecords. I was very impressed.”

“I was not excited, no,” Hux says, rearranging his fingers to slot between Kylo’s, shocking Kylo into stopping.

Kylo does not draw attention to their hands – he does not want Hux to think he is offended. He doesn’t want Hux to withdraw from him.

“Why not?”

“It was just… what had to be done,” Hux says aloofly, “I didn’t particularly care if I lived or died, so there were no wild adrenaline rushes, and I always had several strategic plans in place if one should have failed. I never felt unsafe, really.”

“And to feel unsafe – that is exciting to you?”

Hux looks deeply into Kylo’s eyes and replies softly, “I don’t know.”

There is another moment of silence and then Kylo turns and walks the rest of the way through the patch of woods. There is a sunbathed opening, the grass healthy and glistening, the sky clear and blue – then there is an interruption.

_Petite and bloody hands; nails with dirt and skin stuck beneath them._

_Retching on an empty stomach onto a manicured lawn - the grass healthy and green - a throbbing headache coming in waves._

_Collapsing knees, buckling under an unknown weight._

Kylo lifts his free hand and promptly fills the space with flowers, makes the grass longer and reflective like water, so the blades are no specific color at all. He looks to Hux to gauge his approval.

“You didn’t have to –"

“Yes, I did.”

Hux’s lips draw into a tight line and his grip on Kylo’s hand nearly cuts off circulation.

“I’d like a pond.”

Without looking away from Hux, Kylo lifts his free hand and replaces some of the multicolored flowers with a shallow pond.

Hux stares at the pond for a while – his eyes are hard and full of thought. Kylo is very tired. He would normally have to fight a strong urge so as not to intrude on Hux’s thoughts, but he doesn’t feel the need to. Not at the moment.

He’s rather content to watch the light catch in Hux’s fiery hair and bounce off his long lashes. He’s rather content to just try and be a person for the night.

Abruptly, Kylo feels himself being dragged by Hux toward the pond. Hux sits down and pulls Kylo with him.

Hux does not let go of his hand.

“I want the pond to have stone instead of dirt beneath the water.”

Kylo makes it so.

“I want flowers on the surface of the water – flowers that are always floating and always fully in bloom.”

Kylo makes it so.

“I…”

Kylo waits for further instruction, his eyelids heavy and his gaze peaceful, but still intense. Hux looks into the pond, admires the dark stones of its foundation. Kylo can sense that Hux likes the garden and all the flowers surrounding them. He particularly likes the blue and white ones floating across the pond’s surface; Kylo made them up.

“You trust me, right?”

“Unequivocally,” Kylo answers.

First taking his hand back, Hux readjusts and arranges Kylo to lie down and lean back, using both his hands to lower Kylo’s head into the water. Just about all his body is still on the translucent grass, so Hux is certainly not trying to drown him. Kylo is confused, but practicing patience. He is sure Hux will show him what he means by this.

Hux’s hands go to Kylo’s hair and he combs his long fingers through it, fanning out the locks and seeming to marvel at the weightless and believable nature of Kylo’s hair in water he knows does not really exist. Once he is satisfied with Kylo’s pose, he himself settles downward and he lies shoulder-to-shoulder with Kylo, his own hair dipping into the water.

Kylo turns his head to see how Hux’s hair floats – it seems impossibly brighter somehow. Hux turns to face him as well and says, “you haven’t asked me about the scars on my arms.”

“I can see that they were self-inflicted. You tried to kill yourself. You are a private man – a battle scar given to you by another’s hand is a story I thought you’d be more willing to tell, but even that was met with resistance. I am certain that you would not tell me the truth of the scars on your arms, then – a result of an entirely different fight. And I will not go seeking the answers against your will.”

Hux’s eyes flicker across Kylo’s face and Kylo asks, “so, would you like me to ask about them? Or should I wait for you to tell me – someday, when you trust me?”

“You can take anything you want…” Hux mutters, as if he does not understand Kylo’s question or hesitations.

“Not anything,” Kylo replies, “This attachment – this connection I seek with you must be forged. Trust and dependency will be crucial to building a path to you. Patience is not a virtue I am known for –"

“You don’t say?”

“- _however_ ,” Kylo smirks without meaning to, “I must practice it if I’m to ever have what I truly want.”

He and Hux look at each other, an unfamiliar calm washing over them.

“And what I truly want is not something that I can take. It can only be given.”

Hux’s hand toys with the alien grass and then he says, “I want it to be night time.”

Kylo makes it so.

“I want two moons.”

Kylo makes it so.

Hux reaches out a hand in the water, taking some of Kylo’s hair into his gentle grip.

“Your hair is soft,” Hux comments.

Kylo has no response to that. He likes hearing it, though. He even likes the sensation of having Hux’s hand in his hair. He thinks he could fall asleep like this – where he knows they are just lying on the floor of Hux’s room, but in the illusion there is no one there to bother them. He could sleep peacefully, he thinks. Even dreamlessly.

“To live in this world, you must be able to do just three things; to love what is mortal, to hold it and when the time comes to let it go – to let it go.”

Kylo tilts his head, more into Hux’s palm.

“That’s what my mother said to me.”

“She said only that?”

_There is a woman with hair like Hux’s – light green eyes, freckles and fair skin. She looks rushed and there is a sense of panic. She does not belong here. Hux is young – he could be no older than eight or nine standard years. They are hiding in the courtyard of Hux’s father’s estate. Guards are looking for her._

_“What does that mean?”_

_“That I am letting you go,” she says, thin tears falling down her face, “My beautiful son… I… I cannot save you.”_

_“Save me from what, mother?”_

_A gruff voice from not too far off declares they have heard her – they know Hux is around the corner with her. Hux knows he will be punished for speaking to this stranger that has insisted she is his mother._

_“I cannot save you,” she cries regretfully, full of fear and longing, “and so I must let you go, but know that I love you. My love for you is so true – love so boundless, it transcends all space-time and while the universe might try to swallow it whole, it will never succeed. That is how much I love you. Endlessly.”_

_Hux is still confused when she pulls him in tightly. Confused still when she is dragged away by guards toward the tall, far-off figure of his father in the distance. Confused still when he never sees her or hears from her again._

Hux is staring into Kylo’s eyes when he opens them again.

“You shared that with me intentionally.”

“I did,” Hux replies.

There is a brief pause.

“Thank you,” Kylo decides to say.

“Do you think I will die at the gala?”

“I will not allow for it,” Kylo assures.

Hux smiles and looks away, taking his hand back and watching the droplets fall from his fingertips.

“Does… does Phasma know your name?”

Hux is pleased with Kylo – pleased enough to ignore that Kylo has broken their agreement about what topics could not be broached during their discussion.

“If she did,” Hux starts, glancing up into Kylo’s eyes, “would you be jealous?”

_Yes._

Smirking devilishly, Hux replies, “she doesn’t. No one does but my father. I saw to it while I was still in the Academy to have all official paperwork and documentation regarding my identity altered. There is no way to find my name but through my father. Or, if one were to have any degree of omnipotence, I suppose one could try to take it from my mind.”

“Never,” Kylo promises.

“Make this all vanish,” Hux orders.

Kylo fades the illusion away – they are facing each other on Hux’s bedroom floor. The viewport casts the room in long, black shadows and shades of dark blue. Kylo is tempted to tell Hux that he looks beautiful, but that impulse is somewhat foreign and he has no way of knowing if Hux would like to hear that. He doesn’t say it, but he thinks it. Even the scars on Hux’s arms are symmetrical and somehow beautiful to Kylo.

Perhaps Kylo just recognizes the beauty and power in such evident agony.

“You are exhausted, Ren. How am I to spar with you in such a condition?”

“I will recover and make myself a worthy opponent to you,” Kylo smiles sleepily, “I will leave you now, to rest.”

“Not yet –" Hux rushes to say, his hand flying to Kylo’s forearm, grounding him, “Just… a moment longer.”

Kylo doesn’t ask why. He simply nods and lies back down.

A moment turns into an hour when Millicent lies down in Kylo’s hair and Hux insists that he not move, that there are unspoken laws about cats choosing places to lie and that to avoid insulting her, he mustn't move - Hux even tries to convince him it’s a compliment when Millicent pulls at his hair with her claws.

Truthfully, Kylo thinks it may have all been a ploy to keep him there longer.

If it _was_ a ploy, he doesn’t mind being a pawn for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote Hux's mother says to him is from this:
> 
> "To live in this world  
> you must be able  
> to do three things:  
> to love what is mortal;  
> to hold it  
> against your bones knowing  
> your own life depends on it;  
> and, when the time comes to let it go,  
> to let it go."
> 
> by Mary Oliver


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little NSFW-ish. A little bit. Just a peak. You'll know what I mean.

Despite Kylo's efforts, Hux does not allow Kylo to shadow him anymore.

When Kylo arrives unannounced at Hux’s bedroom door the cycle after they went to Naalol, Hux is – again, flustered, bothered, and angry, but he tells Kylo reasonably that too much time together might not be good for them.

“I don’t want you to avoid me,” Hux explains, “but… perhaps, for the sake of both our tempers, we keep a schedule. You are unpredictable at times and I… I am quick to shut you out. I don’t want anymore incidents like we’ve just had. I have no more cats to exchange for Angels.”

Hux limits Kylo to only a standard hour of what he calls ‘harassment,’ on the observation deck, meal times and sparring at the end of the work cycles.

For several cycles, Kylo does just that. He dutifully follows Hux’s orders, wanting to prove his worthiness of Hux’s faith, patience and mercy of second chance.

He has breakfast with Hux and Phasma when Hux wakes, usually chills Hux’s waking migraine away for him, then mid-cycle he spends meditating or at times, going to watch Nali train with Phasma. He only inserts himself in the training when Phasma invites him to, which she begins doing with increasing frequency (Kylo can't help but wonder if Phasma and Hux have spoken of this and she includes Kylo in the goings-on only because Hux has encouraged her to).

As they all spend more mealtimes together, Kylo finds that Phasma is very levelheaded, and while she’s stern, being in her good favor is rewarding. He can sense that Nali is growing to think of him as a guardian or older brother figure. He is not opposed to this.

After lunch, he follows Hux around the observation deck for his allotted hour, which puts all the present officers on edge – he quite likes how fearful of him they are, but Hux tells him he’s limited to an hour because their fear makes them prone to error,s and he won’t stand for mediocre work among his crew just so Kylo can have an ego boost he doesn’t require.

Most of that time is spent standing beside Hux while he gives orders, watching Hux command officers, and instilling eeriness into Mitaka through the Force. He doesn’t tell Hux about it – Hux would scold him for it. For whatever reason, Hux doesn’t entirely despise Mitaka, and Kylo certainly doesn’t despise him, but he’d like Mitaka to fear him. Things will just run more smoothly for it, Kylo is sure.

There is one cycle Hux stays late on the observation deck, and Kylo comes to check that everything is in order – Hux prides himself on being punctual, and so when he is late to a meal, or anything at all, it is cause for concern. When Kylo finds him, Hux is looking out the viewport and there are a handful of sleepy officers, entering and rearranging data on control panels.

Kylo walks up to Hux, notices that he is pale, his eyes a little sunken, and comes to stand next to him.

“Lord Kylo Ren,” Hux greets, not turning away from the stars.

“General Hux,” Kylo says in return, keeping up formal appearances in front of Hux's subordinates, “I can sense your pain. You have been out here too late. And you are frustrated – was it the engineers again?”

It seems too easy, almost - enough time spent around Hux and he doesn't hesitate to answer Kylo honestly. He rolls his eyes, ready to purge his frustrations and allow Kylo to support him through his ranting.

“It’s honestly as if they are limbless, blind and lobotomized if I am not overseeing every moment of construction! I can’t run all of these projects at once, Ren," Hux insists, sounding aggravated beyond reason, "Really, if I could clone myself and take over all the work, I would. Stars knows the prints and plans would be in more capable hands, at least. And I’ve been getting nonstop messages the last five cycles – a fire is lit under me in terms of the missile designs. Those inbreds haven’t the slightest idea what sort of mechanics are involved in weapon design, but there they are in my inboxes! Demanding deadlines, and blue prints, formal updates and time stamps, and –"

“General, allow me to alleviate your migraine.”

Abruptly, Hux’s ears turn red – he glances around at the officers who don’t look up at him.

Kylo knows they are all watching through their peripheries and listening closely. He isn’t about to tell Hux, though.

“I – no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“General, you are forcing undue stress upon yourself. It weakens your focus. Please. Allow me to heal you.”

“I’m – there is nowhere to go right now –"

“Here is fine,” Kylo responds easily.

Before Hux can argue, Kylo ungloves his right hand and removes Hux’s hat to better access the pain in his left hemisphere. When his fingers thread through Hux’s hair, his thumb settling on Hux’s temple, he pushes a calm into Hux – not as he used on the scavenger girl to knock her out, but close to. Kylo thinks to himself that the General might actually find relief in being Force-sedated regularly, though. He might actually _sleep_ with the help of the Force.

He decides to revisit that thought later.

He tries to imagine sucking Hux’s consciousness from him, catching Hux in a faint as he did with Rey, but the thought of Hux helpless and limp is halfway disturbing, and halfway comedic. Either way, Kylo stops thinking about it.

And, of course, Hux is the only man Kylo has ever encountered that’s been resentful of him for threading a calm into his mind.

 _You are in my head,_ Hux observes with some ire.

 _I’m not snooping_ , Kylo replies, _You know I am not._ _I am just trying to calm you._

_I do not require calming._

_That sounds precisely as relaxed as I thought it would. Very convincing work._

_Careful, Ren. My temperament is not so forgiving this cycle._

_Yes, I can tell._

When Kylo heals the migraine, he is able to sense the tension bleeding from Hux’s body, unspooling in his muscles, loosening them, and allowing for real rest to spread through his body. His heartbeat is ever steady. It is the most rewarding work Kylo ever does these days.

When Hux’s eyes flutter open, he stares at Kylo’s mask. His eyelids are heavy – he is in need of a good rest. Kylo recognizes symptoms of insomnia, but he does not think that is what Hux is suffering from. He thinks Hux is denying himself sleep purposefully for all the projects he is overseeing. Kylo cannot recall the last time he truly cared whether or not someone else was well rested.

_If you do not rest properly, General, I will go over your head, and go directly to Millicent’s authority._

_Ren –_

_Do not test me, General. She mustn’t be pleased by your late hours of work. With her being infinitely higher in the command chain, I would heed the warning if I were you._

Like the dawning of a new day over some impossibly beautiful horizon, Kylo watches in awe as a smile begins to spread across Hux’s face. Hux’s almost-smile is so private – sincere and completely, utterly disarming. There is no explanation for this other than that Hux has forgotten there are other people around them.

He has forgotten all else but Kylo – the way Kylo often forgets the galaxy, and all its history when confronted with Hux. Kylo’s heart patters away, his stomach going light.

_Don’t be funny. You’re not good at it._

_Don’t lie. You happen to be very good at it, but I’d rather you not._

Hux _openly laughs_ at that, and it throws Kylo for a loop.

He backs up a step – for some reason, fear is his instinctive reaction to this new emotional response from Hux. His strange response seems to reset whatever switch was flicked in Hux’s head back to a state of awareness, and his grin fades as quickly as it arrived. Back to himself, Hux glances around at some of the staring officers – the officers that are not openly staring are aggressively _not_ staring, which is almost worse.

“What are you imbeciles looking at? Get back to work!”

The deck fills again with the noises of fingers on keyboards, the whirring of droids and humming of computers.

_You have so many insults in your arsenal, Hux. You’ve called me a number of creative names. Was 'imbecile,' the best you could do for these poor fools? They work so hard for you, they deserve your best._

Hux scoffs, fixing his hat back on his head and looking out the window viewport, tucking his arms behind his back.

_It is not about the most hurtful words, it’s about how sharp it is. Different situations call for different insults._

_Please, teach me your ways._

Hux smirks and looks a little away from Kylo.

_You’re not funny. Stop it._

_I’m not trying to be funny – I take your orders very seriously._

_Ren._

_Come now. You’ve called me an arse before, a child, an idiot, a buffoon, an oaf, a dunce, a **cretin** –_

_Don’t forget dullard – that was a good day for me. I was on a roll._

_Was that the same day you called me a simpleton in front of Master Snoke?_

_The very same. I’ve also called you a dolt._

_Mm, yes, I recall – that was in regard to the conference table I split in half. My favorites were the shorter ones, I think._

_The shorter ones?_

_Like, when you called me a dolt, a clod and a twit – all in the same twenty-six hour day, I think – has anyone ever told you that your sunny and friendly disposition can be off-putting at times?_

Maybe it's the dry and solemn delivery of these jokes that spurs Hux into laughing again, but no matter why he does, Hux laughs out again, _loudly_ and all the officers look up from their screens in shock.

Behind his mask, Kylo's face is twitching into something like a smile, but his stomach is turning nervously and his heart is racing like he might be ill. He is enjoying this reaction from Hux, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t know if this means Hux regards him as a friend or if Hux is losing his mind or if he's lost his own.

Friends laugh with each other, don’t they? They share quiet, personal moments like this, right?

Kylo would not know.

Hux schools his features as best and quickly as he can, a gloved hand coming to cover his face, but Kylo can still see the smile itching at the corner of his lips.

Hux clears his throat, angles his head toward his workers, and says in his most authoritative tone, “ _what_ , you nimrods? Stop _gawking_ and _work_ or I will not hesitate to put you all on double shifts!”

When they quickly turn back to work, Kylo bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He hasn’t laughed while in his mask before. He wonders what the modulator would make it sound like.

He wonders what it sounds like at all, actually.

_Nimrods. That’s a good one._

_Shut up, Ren._

After dinner, they traded training stories in Hux’s quarters rather than their usual routine, which had become dinner with Hux (and Phasma, typically), and then Kylo following Hux to his quarters, spending time with Millicent while Hux finishes any left over work and then watching as Hux readies himself for either sparring or meditation.

When Hux returned to his quarters this particular rest cycle, he found that Kylo was already there, on the floor, allowing Millicent to chase a loose thread from his cloak.

Hux says something about Kylo putting to shame so much of his training in Stoicism, and that he is not to ‘pull acts,’ like that again in view of so many people. Kylo explains he meant no harm and had no idea he would actually humor Hux, which Hux then promptly denies ever having happened.

“You’re well-spoken, well-read, command great respect,” Kylo starts, “but not all Academy graduates are as intellectual or competent as you. Why is that?”

“I have always been superior this way,” Hux answers easily, “Where others tried in earnest and achieved mediocrity, I was able to operate in finely tuned precision with my eyes shut and hands tied behind my back. I was wired for military life, I think. I have a natural draw to order, and flourish under pressure.”

“What was combat training like? From what Nali has told me, it sounds rather ruthless – though, I suppose that’s the point,” Kylo converses, carefully avoiding Millicent’s claws as she hunts his loose threads, “With how often you throw me to the ground in sparring, I imagine you did very well there too.”

When there is no immediate answer, Kylo looks up to see if Hux has a word stuck on the tip of his tongue he can help loosen. (Kylo has become quite gifted at that – guessing what word it is Hux is looking for. Often during meals. Phasma has thanked him for “taking some of the responsibility of finishing Hux’s thoughts for him.” Hux glared at them both.)

There are no words floating near the surface of Hux’s frontal lobe, though. He’s exuding a sort of blurriness.

Hux’s eyes go unfocused briefly.

It is profoundly unnerving.

It is a short dissociation.

Something Kylo does often, and has seen in others, but never Hux.

 _Never_ Hux.

There is a stillness in the air, like time has gone thick around them, encasing them like molasses. There’s a dark energy suffocating Hux’s spirit, burning holes in his aura.

Hux doesn't need to say a word to communicate his discomfort. It's apparent to Kylo's trained eye.

Something happened at combat training.

Something horrible happened at combat training.

Something that forces Hux to leave his own eyes, his own mind upon recollection, happened at combat training.

Kylo can sense the evil of the memory surfacing Hux’s mind, below the fog and inner distance. It’s like someone beating against his door – it would be so easy to open that door and see who is on the other side, but Hux would not forgive him for looking at whatever is there. Whatever is there is not for Kylo to see.

Whatever this memory is, Kylo is sorry for having ever brought it up.

Hux blinks a few times, gradually coming back to himself, and then says blankly, “unremarkable. I am smaller of frame – always have been. And for my height, it was always more difficult for me to develop any substantial muscle. That is where the gift of wits comes in, though. I learned to work smarter, not harder. And you, Ren? What was – or, _is_ , I suppose, training like for you?”

It doesn’t escape Kylo’s notice how quick Hux is to change the subject.

Hux so disquieted is a terrible sight.

“It is difficult to explain to someone who is not Force sensitive,” Kylo admits, playing along with Hux's deflection, looking to Millicent and her suddenly wary eyes, “Between the Light and Dark sides of the Force, there are many different training techniques. The Light requires sacrifice of emotional wealth, where the Dark demands more physical sacrifice.”

“Have you found one type of sacrifice at all easier than the other?”

“No,” Kylo responds, “The physical sacrifices of the Dark side have more to do with deprivation or willingly destroying something considered sacred. Collectively, over the years, I’ve probably spent months in deprivation chambers. I am likely to face them again in the future.”

“Deprivation _chambers_? That sounds barbaric,” Hux sneers with distaste, “What purpose could that possibly serve?”

“Again – it is not easily explained,” Kylo says, rolling onto his back, gesticulating vaguely with his hands, “There is a higher clarity achievable through deprivation. Pushing your physical body to its limits, and then bringing it back from the edge of death is no small feat, but when it is achieved, there is such reward and rush to it. Deprivation allows for more focus to be directed toward the energies of the Force. It makes you more in tune with it – just short of becoming part of it. I find my connection to the Force to be overwhelming at times, though – that is not my favored part of the deprivation chambers. The greatest gift of the deprivation chambers, I think, has been its change to my eye-sight.”

“How so?”

“I can see in complete darkness. It is more than being attuned to my surroundings or being guided by the Force – I am able to _see_ clearly in blackness. It took several standard weeks in a deprivation chamber for that ability to present itself.”

“That sounds like torture,” Hux says softly, sounding perturbed.

Kylo shrugs, “great power comes at great cost. You know, before acclimating to complete lack of light, one experiences something I have called mind splintering.”

“You have named it?”

“Yes – I was told that what I experienced in the chamber is called the Spelunker Illusion, but that is not it, I know it, and when I described it, no one could give a name to it, so I did.”

“I’m not familiar with this,” Hux reluctantly admits, “What is the Spelunker Illusion?”

“The Spelunker Illusion is where, let’s say you and I are in a place that lacks all light – we both raise our hands in front of our faces – we both claim to be able to see our own hands, but cannot see the other’s at all. The truth is, we are not seeing our own hands at all, but our minds are providing us with the sense that we are. If we could truly see our own hands, we would be able to then see someone else’s hand, so what we see of our own hand is an illusion created by memory.”

Hux hums with intrigue and Kylo expands, “the Spelunker Illusion effects people with heightened connectivity between the senses and who possess a greater awareness of the body. The brain isn’t really using direct input information from your eyes, it’s just using your eyes' previously stored information selectively alongside familiar or predictable patterns—such as your hands' movements—to construct what you ultimately perceive.”

“Alright. But this is not… not what you experienced?”

“No – I mean, yes – I did experience that, but then beyond that, I saw more. There was one event where I must not have slept for at least fifty hours because all of my senses were interacting with the nothingness, creating illusions. I had auditory, tactile, and visual hallucinations. Bright lights – glowing, sparking lights – sounds that made me jump that I knew were an impossibility for how far into the ground I was. When those fifty hours passed, I grew to accept the lights, sounds and sensations, I stopped jumping or being frightened by them. I cannot tell you how long they stayed, but I know that when I finally realized they were gone, I could see my deprivation chamber in its entirety.”

“And this – you do not think has anything to do with the Spelunker Illusion?” Hux asks doubtfully.

“Certainly not – my eyes had no information to collect on the chamber prior to the darkness. And ever since then, even in new environments I have never before explored, I can see it all in darkness.”

“And why do you treasure this skill so much?” Hux asks curiously, “You’ve many skills with the Force – what makes this one so significant to you?”

No one has ever asked him such a thing before.

Kylo rolls onto his side to better look at Hux and answers thoughtfully, “I don’t know. There is something deeply comforting about knowing that in a consuming darkness, I will still see all for what it is.”

Hux almost-smiles again, and says, “why, Ren, that was nearly poetic.”

To show his appreciation, Kylo rolls his eyes at Hux, and when he leaves that sleep cycle, he is tortured with the unfocused glaze of Hux’s eyes. The memory of how distant Hux so suddenly became troubles him deeply.

He knows harm came to Hux. He wants to kill whatever or whoever dared lay a hand on him.

He wonders if whatever happened at combat training drove Hux to try to end his life - drove him to make those long, vertical marks on his arms.

That thought feels too close to a truth Kylo is unwelcome to discover.

He tries to stop thinking about it, but that faraway look Hux wore haunts Kylo during meditation.

Kylo does not make great strides with Hux in regard to teaching him how to meditate – Hux’s mind is nearly impossible to clear. When he is on the cusp of clarity, he self-sabotages unintentionally and seems to bring on his own migraines at times.

They work through a multitude of breathing exercises, which seem to be helpful for Hux, but unless he is being verbally guided through it, he will lose his concentration. Kylo hates referring back to Jedi training, but at times, it is the only material that will aid Hux and that, ultimately, is more important to him.

Hux, on the other hand, has made enormous strides with Kylo in sparring. He spends those evenings talking strategy with Kylo, teaching him not to rely on the Force to foresee an enemy’s oncoming attack, but how to read Hux’s body language. How to have several plans of action already set before making a move. Sometimes Kylo asks to hear about Hux’s past battles, and Hux indulges him – focusing not on his heroism as his fanatics might, but the value of his strategies.

Sometimes they trade more secrets.

Insignificant things; that Kylo does not have any credits because he never actually pays for anything he takes and makes for a master thief. That Hux’s family estate is in the Mid Rim somewhere and he longs to return to it someday, for the purpose of burning it to the ground. That Kylo still has visions of Han Solo whenever he tries to sleep. That Hux once murdered a bystander, thinking they were part of the Resistance – something he considers a failure of judgment on his part and bothers him more than he believes it ought to. That Kylo sometimes swears he can hear General Organa weeping. That Hux built the stormtrooper training program on a foundation of his own childhood experiences.

When they graduate to hand-to-hand combat, Kylo finds that this is more Hux’s weakness. That is to say, Hux is a phenomenal threat with a weapon, and positively fantastic with just his hands – but, that Kylo is better suited for hand-to-hand combat is unsurprising to him. Kylo’s body is formed to be a weapon, years have been spent shaping it into a blunt instrument – he is glad to sometimes be able to be the one to teach Hux something in that sparring room.

There is one event while ground fighting that Hux’s dog tags fall out from his shirt while he topples Kylo over and sits on Kylo’s chest – his knees pinning Kylo’s arms to the ground. Instinctively, Kylo shuts his eyes, so as not to be tempted to read the information offered on the tags.

For some reason, Hux decides to alert Kylo to the fact that it is okay to open his eyes again by brushing hair away from his forehead.

“Doesn’t it get annoying?”

“What?” Kylo asks breathlessly, his eyes fluttering open.

“The long hair – I can’t imagine having it on my neck like that.”

“It… I can hide in it, I think,” Kylo answers truthfully, “I think that’s why I wear it long.”

Another secret shared.

Hux loosens his hold on Kylo to pull all of Kylo’s hair together, away from his face as a band might hold it.

“Nothing unsightly to hide here,” Hux observes.

Kylo scowls at him, but there is no heat behind it, “do you not see the enormous scar across my face?”

“It is a part of you – you should feel no shame for it. Besides, your hair does not hide the scar.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

Without a proper answer at the ready, Kylo sighs and admits, begrudgingly, “…it is nice to have it off my neck.”

That’s how Kylo comes to tie his hair back before sparring. He finds it helps his periphery immensely, but he refuses to cut it. He keeps it long, if not to hide behind it, then really just to infuriate Hux.Their bond strengthens and Kylo finds greater power in himself for it; passions and loyalties feed his connection to the Force and he feels healthier and stronger with every passing cycle.

Lone meditations, however, are marred with the same visions of the gala, and of that strange, green lightsaber. He sometimes hears Han Solo speaking to him.

It’s always nonsense or nonconsecutive segments of overheard conversations.

It always feels real, though.

He and Hux spend many cycles with this routine.

Kylo finds it difficult to stay away during the workday, but true to his word, he makes his best attempts at patience. Granted, he does lose his temper with other officers often, he threatens Haas’s life at least three times for simply bumping into him, and when his temper flares he is prone to creating arguments between himself and Hux, but it all comes to a head when he destroys a small conference room after again being rejected for a mission by Snoke.

Hux doesn’t mind Kylo threatening his crew too much, but he despises the financial consequences and tedious form-filling involved in following up Kylo’s messes. (“do you have _any_ idea what it’s like to try to fill out an event report? These panels are not _insured_ , Ren. I have to have legitimate reason to ask for new equipment and my reports look like I allow a madman to tear through my ship, destroying whatever he pleases whenever anger strikes him. And don’t get me wrong, that is precisely what is happening, but how many times must I write that out on expense reports?”)

The room is still smoking and his lightsaber is still sparking like split lightning when he hears the familiar pace of Hux’s boots on the ground. He disengages his lightsaber and turns to the open doorway to see Hux standing tall in the threshold.

“Lord Kylo Ren,” he greets – the officers behind him looking pale and uncertain, “I imagine you realize that whole offices are more difficult to replace than control panels. Was this entirely necessary?”

“I have no other outlet available to me,” Kylo hisses through his modulator, irritated and overheated.

A vision strikes him then – when he says that.

_There is fury, but not a kind he is familiar with – an outlet too. Something also unfamiliar._

_There are hues and shades of blue everywhere, but it is not cool – not in the least. Everything feels humid, even, but he knows he’s indoors. There is damp sweat by his temples, making the hair at the base of his neck and along his forehead curl and stick to him. It’s hard to catch his breath, but he’s glad for it. He doesn’t want to catch his breath._

_He doesn’t think he’s wearing anything in this vision – the air feels electric across his skin, he hears panting and can’t decipher whether it is his or someone else’s. His hands slide down a slim, tapered waist, someone else’s sweat drops from the tip of their nose onto him – they lean down toward him, everything is rocking and maybe lopsided. The world is on a tilt, everything is heavy, syrupy and sensitive, but good. Immensely good._

_A flash of ginger hair and a deep sigh of “ **Ren** ,”_ - and he knows precisely what is happening.

He pulls himself from the vision violently, unwilling to see more.

 _That was not a vision_ , Kylo tells himself immediately, his heart pounding, a pulsation low in his abdomen, _That was just a strange fragmented fantasy. That was **not** a vision. That was not a vision._

Redirecting his uncertainties and his frustrations, he inwardly blames Hux for the distraction – standing there with an expression so cold, but eyes so open and clearly _worried_. Hux is somehow at fault for whatever just happened, Kylo is sure.

His heart is racing, and more than anything, he wants to get out of the office and away from Hux. He has no idea why his brain would produce such imagery – his libido has been beyond tame since... even _before_ he was Kylo Ren. He is above these base desires and has been for a long time.

He didn’t even _see_ anything of significance – just the hair, the feeling and the sound of his name –

“Leave us,” Hux orders.

The officers and troopers behind him scatter quickly.

After a few moments, Hux asks, “are we alone?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Tell me what’s happened.”

Tensions are high, really only on Kylo's end, but he sees no reason to lie.

“I… Master Snoke is still not allowing me to join the other Knights of Ren in training.”

Hux’s brow furrows, “have you not told him about our regular sparring? You’ve gained back whatever muscle may have been lost while healing, and your side hasn’t been bothering you nearly as much. Why is he delaying, do you think?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Kylo growls, his hands curling into fists.

As he notices everything on everyone, Hux notices Kylo’s body going rigid and offers, “come, Ren. Let’s go spar. It will allow you a better outlet than destroying my ship.”

This is said in good humor, but it cannot reach Kylo.

The thought of sparring with Hux seems threatening suddenly. Kylo thinks of Hux’s clavicle glistening with sweat, the flush of his freckled neck, ears, and cheeks, how his icy eyes twinkle with pride when Kylo lands a good blow, employs some strategy or wins a match. What it is like to have Hux’s weight on top of him – what it is like to watch Hux move with lethal grace and precision.

His eyes drift to Hux’s lips and everything in him turns to a boil.

“No. I cannot.”

Disappointment is writ over Hux’s face – he has become rather accustomed to allowing open expression to show on his face when they are alone. Kylo is grateful for this development, he had even hoped for it, but right now it is just fuel to a fire Kylo cannot put out.

“Is there something else? You can tell me, you know. I'd not tell Phasma or anyone else, if there's something you need kept confidential.”

_Gasping, a short laugh – Hux’s canines are sharp, and his smile is eager, so dangerous, so thrilling – “ **Ren** –"_

Kylo shakes his head, hoping the images will fall out of his ears, and down on the ground where he can slash them apart.

“Hux, I –"

_Kylo’s hands clasped around Hux’s neck, dog tags hanging there, cool against Kylo’s overheated skin, Hux’s hands tangled in his hair and **pulling** – every nerve alight, his legs shaking, Hux’s perfect teeth biting over his full bottom lip –_

“What is it, Ren?”

“I’m – I –" Kylo makes a noise of frustration, and all but rips his helmet off.

Hux looks concerned again, and shuts the conference door, providing them further privacy.

Kylo tears off his old cloak, his gloves and undoes the top of his tunic – he is shaking and doesn’t know why. His skin feels too hot, his bones are humming.

_I am worrying about you._

That thought is projected loudly at him.

Hux has actually gotten quite good at initiating telepathic conversation.

Caught off-guard by the sincerity and gentleness in Hux's inner-voice, Kylo glances to Hux, then shamefully looks away as he paces the floor.

_I know. I can feel it._

_Tell me what to do._

_There is nothing to be done._

There is a pause and then, sounding certain that he has found the deeper issue at hand, Hux asks, “are you anxious about the gala? That must be it. Ren, I am certain you will be most capable of seeing me through alive. Even I am unworried. And in just three cycles it will all be over. I truly have the utmost faith in yo –"

“That’s not what I –"

Kylo stops himself.

Freezing where he stands, Kylo looks at Hux and asks, “what was that you said?”

“What?”

“Faith,” Kylo says, slowly advancing on Hux, who backs up nervously into the closed door, “You were about to say you have the utmost faith in m –"

“Your _abilities_ ,” Hux intercepts, face red.

There is a pregnant pause, and Kylo can feel that tension between them again – the one he once thought hatred. The tension that crackles like lightning, paces like a beast in a cage – a fiery, burning thing.

“Do you trust me, Hux?”

Hux searches Kylo’s eyes, his brows curved in, “your pupils are dilated. You’re radiating heat – do you have a fever, Ren?”

Kylo slams his palms into the door on either side of Hux’s head.

There is not so much as a twitch from the General. Hux is unafraid of him.

Trapped, though, he is.

In this state, Kylo could lean forward and drag his tongue over Hux’s jugular. He could nip at the turn of Hux’s jaw, he could breathe deep that fresh, intoxicating scent of Hux’s fiery hair. He could run his hands up Hux’s chest, feel his heart pound, he could cup his hands around Hux’s throat, comb his fingers upward and muss Hux’s hair the way he likes. He could. He can take whatever he wants.

 _I will do no such thing_ , Kylo tells himself furiously, _What has come over me?_

His knuckles audibly creak against the door – Hux can sense that something is deeply wrong. He does not realize that he is the object of Kylo’s torment, though – he does not realize that every shift of his eyes and fan of his lashes is burning Kylo from the inside out.

 _Is this why I always think he is so beautiful?_  Kylo wonders to himself.

That doesn’t feel completely right.

_Hux is objectively beautiful, that is not unique to me. Have I been touching him too much in sparring? Have I touched our hands together too often?_

“Ren, really, are you okay? Never mind – I won’t believe you if you say yes, anyway. Come to my quarters – I’ll have a medical droid come with discretion – whatever is wrong, I am sure it can be righted in a timely fashion.”

The sapphire, cobalt, and alabaster in Hux’s eyes are mesmerizing. More than they usually are. More than they should be.

“I must speak to Master Snoke,” Kylo says, backing away from Hux, frightened by his own hands and their own, private desires.

“Ren – you are _worrying_ me. What is…”

When that sentence doesn't complete itself, Kylo looks up from the floor to Hux, who looks openly offended.

“…is it _me_?”

“What?”

“You are a terrible liar - I am always able to tell when you are lying,” Hux reminds him, “Are you – is it _me_ you’re trying to outrun? What have I… what’s happened?”

Looking elsewhere, as if for an escape, Kylo replies vaguely, “it’s not… I cannot be with you, alone. Not right now.”

“… _why_?” Hux demands.

Lingering by the mangled conference table, Kylo slips his mask on, pulls together his tunic again and says simply, “it’s what must be done until I have answers.”

“Answers to _what_?” Hux exclaims, “If they are answers I can provide, then just come to my quarters and I will –"

“ _Enough_ ,” Kylo interrupts, “I need answers from Master _Snoke_.”

“Answers concerning _me_?” Hux asks, his own personal fury and paranoia brewing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “What is it that Supreme Leader Snoke knows about me that I don’t, Ren?”

Kylo groans in aggravation, “it is not – this is not to do with – I am not plotting against you, Hux –"

“I never _said_ you were plotting,” Hux says sharply, “but now that _you’ve_ planted the idea, where should I follow that to?”

“ _No_!” Kylo booms, shaking the room with fraying powers.

Hux’s heart is beating at sixty-two beats per minute.

Kylo feels terrible for losing control of his temper again, and especially in front of Hux.

“No,” he says more calmly, “I will not allow us to fight with the gala so close. I have already come too close to losing you before. I cannot risk it again. We will speak when I deem myself ready to.”

“Right, of course, fine, ” Hux agrees in a tone that is anything but fine, “That makes perfect sense, seeing as your time is so much more valuable than my own.”

“Hux, you know that is not what I’m saying –"

“Not another word! We mustn’t speak until _you_ deem yourself _ready to_! Working on _your_ time is so essential, of course!”

Without another word, Hux turns and storms out of the destroyed conference room.

Kylo thinks of going after Hux – he knows this is what Hux wants. Hux wants for him to follow, to apologize and explain what is wrong, but that is something Kylo cannot do. It physically pains him to walk in the opposite direction.

After just five minutes, Kylo can sense from across the ship, Hux’s anxious thoughts and sense of betrayal. He is paranoid. He thinks everything is a trap – Kylo knows this about Hux, but there is nothing to be done for it. Not now, anyway.

All he can do right now is seek answers from Snoke.

His attachment to Hux is beginning to frighten him, and he needs to know now if it is in his best interest to pull away from Hux altogether.

Snoke will guide him in whatever direction is best, he is sure of it, and when Kylo can speak to Hux again, it will be with a clear mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's thoughts won't be clear after speaking to Snoke? lolololol


	16. Chapter 16

“This is _unsafe_ ,” Kylo proclaims for the fifth time, “I can feel the danger – like eyes peering at me through the brush. I am consumed by my thoughts of him – I cannot go a single cycle without seeing him or I am irate, unfocused and cannot even meditate without thoughts of him coming, _unbidden_! I am never _satiated_ – when I learn something more about him, my hunger for knowledge just _grows_. I keep expecting this want to deteriorate, but it only worsens. The more he speaks, the more I _want_ him to say. The more he spends time with me, the _more_ I want to see him. I have never been attached to anyone or anything like this – never. It feels too dangerous. I… I am fearful I am becoming lost in him, and I have vowed not to enter his mind and so I cannot even tell if it is all a trick he is playing on me.”

“General Hux is too frightened to play a trick on you, Kylo Ren,” Snoke replies with certainty.

Kylo stops his rapid pacing and looks up to Snoke, his mask an irritation, but not enough to remove. He feels too naked as it is.

“What do you mean by that?”

“General Hux knows what I would do if he were to ever bring harm to you - in any form. You need never fear him – he may be ruthless with others, but he will not tamper with _your_ mind.”

Trepidation sits heavy in Kylo's chest, and his fervent pacing stops; that Snoke is confirming that Hux has the power to infiltrate and alter Kylo's mind as he does his subordinates is disturbing, but what is more disturbing is that he doesn't know what is keeping Hux from doing just that.

“…what is it, exactly," Kylo asks, "...that he knows you will do?”

Snoke reaches out an ancient hand and Kylo shuts his eyes to better focus on the memory he knows he is about to receive.

_Hux is younger – about to meet Kylo for the first time. His hair is too short, Kylo decides - he likes it longer. He is alone with Snoke, tightly wound in full uniform, eyes sharp and mind sharper._

_“Listen to me well, General,” Snoke hisses, “I do not care what you do with your cadets, officers and troopers. What you do with your army is irrelevant to me. However, Kylo Ren is no part of your army, and it would behoove you to remember that.”_

_“Of course, Supreme Leader,” Hux answers._

_“You are not understanding me,” Snoke says in warning, leaning down in his great throne, “I know the games you play with people. I am a powerful Force user – to see such ability to manipulate others without revealing yourself is admirable for someone ungifted as you. You will not toy with Kylo Ren. I **will** know if you have made any attempts to influence or fool him. If such a time comes, **I** will be effectual instantly where the deep scars on your arms mark your most pathetic failure. Is that understood, General?”_

_Hux is disturbed that Snoke somehow knows about the scars on his arms, but he doesn’t let it show. Snoke enjoys this; feeling Hux’s fear and watching him pretend there is no fear to be sensed. Despite himself, Snoke does like Hux; finds him interesting. Hux nods once and replies, “understood, Supreme Leader.”_

_“He is no toy of yours.”_

_“Certainly not.”_

The memory fades and Kylo opens his eyes again, staring at the dark floor.

“… If it is not his doing, then it is my own. I am sinking myself in him – it feels like it will kill me, Master. I do not understand why I feel –"

“Kylo Ren,” Snoke interrupts, “What is the first law of the code of the Sith?”

“Peace is a lie,” Kylo answers, “there is only passion.”

“Recite it to me – what comes next.”

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion,” Kylo repeats, ”Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

“You are at unrest. You cannot meditate, you feel unfulfilled, but not empty. Too full, rather. The unrest you are experiencing is the truth of the lack of peace – peace cannot be found, not truly. And that is where your unrest is coming from. What lies in its place is passion.”

“You… mean to say that my passion… is General Hux?”

“It would appear so,” Snoke notes simply, “And there is strength in that. Power to be groomed and shaped at will. This passion feels dangerous only because it is untapped power – power you have never before wielded. I am here to guide you, Kylo Ren. You are on the path to freedom. Passion for you once was anger, but it has been drowned out by your passion for the General. Listen closely to me and feel the resonation of my words...”

For the few beats of silence Snoke allows, Kylo stares up at him in wonder.

“Peace is a lie – there is only General Hux.”

Kylo’s heart skips a beat and Snoke makes a knowing sound, “ah, yes – you feel the truth in this. Accept the power General Hux offers you, Kylo Ren. Peace is a lie; there is only General Hux. Through General Hux, you gain strength and through the strength General Hux provides, you become more powerful. Power General Hux strengthens you to wield. General Hux grants you passion, strength and power and I can grant you control.”

Kylo’s heart is still offbeat, this new mantra playing in his head like a broken record Snoke is speaking over.

“You could not have chosen a better ally to bring you to victory, Kylo Ren. General Hux is a powerful, strategic man. That he impassions you is a gift he does not realize he has given to you.”

“This sense of foreboding still haunts me,” Kylo admits quietly, “I… I feel untethered. I lose control of my senses in his presence – is this what passion is meant to do? I do not feel stronger for it – I feel weaker… fearful.”

Snake's smile is a crumbling, broken line when replies, “you are ready to advance, Kylo Ren. When you return from the gala, I will grant you three full cycles of rest and then you are to come to me. We will fine-tune the weapon of your passion for General Hux, and your fears will leave you.”

Kylo’s eyes widen and a weight is lifted from his chest and shoulders – he is allowed to rejoin training with the Knights. He is eager to train again under Snoke’s watch – equally eager to return to training and equally eager to tell Hux the good news, that he is no longer deemed unfit. And somehow, there is a sadness laced in the knowledge that he will be leaving Hux so soon after the gala.

“Do not depress yourself, Kylo Ren. Your time with General Hux has proven most useful, and I will see to it myself that he is handsomely rewarded for having gone above and beyond the call of duty.”

Kylo’s brow creases in worry as a lump forms in his throat.

“My… time with him – you say this as though there will be no more time with him to come…”

“There may not be,” Snoke tells him seriously, “I cannot know how long your training here will last, and once your training with the weapon of your passion for General Hux is complete, I see no reason to send you back to _Aurora_. There is no way of knowing if General Hux will still be on _Aurora_ at all by the time you have completed training.”

“Will another Knight take my place aboard _Aurora_?” Kylo inquires – his mind splintering into anxiety, and hatred, and revulsion, sadness, anger, and uncertainty.

This is the untethering. This is the danger Kylo spoke of. His heart, mind, body and soul all fracturing like thin capillaries, throbbing and red and he has no way of navigating the map they all create. He fears that whatever vein leads him to Snoke is not the same that will keep him beside Hux, the place he has sworn to be. The place he _wants_ to be.

“If General Hux requires a Force user, I will send him one, but it is unlikely. Even when I assigned you to the _Finalizer_ , he was very reluctant to accept your presence. Then again, he may have grown too used to your healings, and might request I send another Knight to his aid.”

Very suddenly Kylo does not feel at all comfortable leaving _Aurora_.

_No, no, no – none of the Knights can heal him like I can. None of them can serve him as well as I have – as I **still** can. None of them care like I do. They would fail him. He cannot be failed – he can have no other Knight of Ren but me. No – he can have no other Force-user but me beside him. I cannot have it any other way, and he certainly would not have it any other way, I am sure._

He is lying to himself.

Other Knights of Ren can heal migraines just as well as he can. Other Force-users could certainly protect him, and create illusions, and teach him to meditate.

When did his clarity so fall away that he is willfully attempting to deceive himself?

With no way of knowing whether or not he will return to _Aurora_ , he is bombarded with concerns.

Nali comes to mind – he does not want to leave her without whatever familial role it is he has filled for her. She needs him and his guidance as he once needed Snoke. As he still does.

He thinks of Haas – how eager Haas will be to occupy the empty space Kylo will leave by Hux’s side. An image of Haas standing to the right of Hux on the observation deck – the right _he_ usually occupies – illustrates itself across the screen in his mind and he is sickened by it.

He thinks of Hux’s migraines – how no one will be present or powerful enough to alleviate the pain. He thinks of Hux’s sleepless rest cycle – how no one will notice when his skin is too pallid, how no one will insist he get rest. He thinks of how no one will offer to spar with him, how no one will ask him to tell the tales of his ascension to General of the First Order (except for Haas, who asks too many questions too often anyway). He thinks of Hux’s paranoid thoughts, the cosmic fear of his father and how no one will comfort him – no one will know how to.

How alone Hux will be – how alone Hux will never admit to feeling.

“Your attachment is deep,” Snoke observes.

Kylo looks up to him, fearful of his thoughts but unashamed of most of them, and Snoke adds, “this is a good thing, Kylo Ren.”

To part with Hux is a blade twisting into the soft underbelly of Kylo’s heart – a vulnerable, plush, bleeding pillow Kylo had no idea had formed. And Kylo knows Snoke can sense this. He is embarrassed for how much pain the very thought of parting with Hux causes him.

“Live with the General until you return to me.”

“What?” Kylo asks, his heart speeding up again.

“Move what few belongings you have into General Hux’s personal quarters and stay with him. Spend as much time as you can with him before coming to me. Meditate with him near, share his space, consume what knowledge he offers. You have done very well, Kylo Ren. This is a time for celebration.”

There is no appropriate response ready in Kylo’s mind. He is being torn in too many different directions for anything coherent to come together.

He and Snoke exchange parting words and Kylo is halfway to the door when he turns around and asks, “oh – there is something I forgot. Master?”

“Yes, Kylo Ren?”

“Would you be opposed to my killing the Commandant?”

First, Snoke appears confused, then intrigued. There is an ominous _knowing_ in Snoke’s scrutiny.

“You would like to assassinate the Commandant, Kylo Ren?”

“Yes, Master.”

“For any particular reason?”

“I don’t know the entirety of it, but he hurt General Hux. Somehow. He has left wounds in General Hux – the kind that I cannot mend. That no one can mend.”

“So, you would like to kill Commandant Brendol Hux to avenge his son’s mistreatment?”

“Yes, Master.”

There is a long pause and Kylo has his hand on the hilt of his saber, like he is ready to answer this call to action as soon as he has the green light; Snoke notices this as well. He falls back in his chair and says, “certainly not. I quite like the Commandant. As far as competent warriors and leaders go, he is the only one I have found more capable than General Hux.”

 _There is **no one** more capable than Hux! Much less that blind snake of a man_, Kylo thinks furiously.

That is an error.

Too close to something treasonous.

Kylo pales, but Snoke gives him that eerie smile again and simply says, “you do not have my permission to kill the Commandant. Be on your way now, Kylo Ren. Celebrate your newfound power with your most cherished General.”

Once Kylo is alone, out in the hall, though, he does not feel particularly celebratory. This hadn’t felt like a step in the right direction – or the wrong direction, which is more confusing. It feels like he’s spinning in circles, and still rocketing forward, orbiting something that is enormous but constantly in his periphery. Always just out of sight. Beyond his grasp.

He thinks of going to Hux, who he knows is pacing a private corridor. He senses that Phasma is with him – Phasma only understands that there has been some sort of altercation between the two of them. She is trying to calm Hux down – Hux is frightened for his wellbeing – frightened of what Snoke and Kylo discussed of him while Kylo seemed so angry.

It's only now that Kylo realizes that Hux is operating under the impression that he went to speak to Snoke about a nonexistent anger toward _him_. It makes sense, suddenly – of course Hux would be worried for his safety. Kylo all but struck him before barely admitting that Hux was the problem at hand, and then did not follow after Hux to cleanse him of his paranoia.

Kylo remembers the images Snoke showed him, and he wants more than anything to go to that corridor and tell Hux the truth; that he is only frightened by his own attachments, and that’s what he had to speak to Snoke about. That he is _still_ frightened by his own attachments.

He wants to tell Hux that he has been accepted back into training after so long without communications with the Knights of Ren – but he is distressed too that Hux won’t be pleased with the news.

_“I thought you said you would remain close. You said you would have me beside you. You **keep** saying that, actually. Do you intend to stay or not?”_

Will Hux mourn the loss of Kylo’s company? So strange in Kylo’s tangled mind, how much he wants Hux to mourn the loss of him, to have confirmed that Hux is attached to him as well, but how terribly he doesn’t want Hux to mourn anything ever again. He doesn’t want to disappoint Hux by leaving either. He doesn’t want to leave at all, really.

To stay against Snoke’s orders is not an option, though.

Hux must know by now that Kylo would do most anything to stay by his side. He must know, surely.

_“… is it me? Are you – is it **me** you’re trying to outrun? What have I… what’s happened?”_

_“I never **said** you were plotting, but now that **you’ve** planted the idea, where should I follow that to?”_

No. Perhaps not. Perhaps Hux does not realize how –

_Cherished._

_…no_ , Kylo thinks to himself, _Perhaps Hux… does **not** realize how I cherish him. He is not Force sensitive – he cannot sense my feedback, he cannot know the depth of my care unless I speak openly to him about it…_

Fury in Kylo is like a storming sea, always moving, the waves always sharp and crashing – always present in a fixed, swirling motion, but Hux’s fury is like solar flares.

There are no storms in Hux’s eyes, or heart, or mind – but when there is anger, and anger usually meant for Kylo – there are sudden, fiery bursts from him. His anger snaps like a whip against tender flesh, sizzling with danger and too bright to look directly at. Hux’s anger has captured Kylo’s attention for all its sharp beauty, the sirens blaring when his eyes turn from Alice blue ice to the hottest cobalt flames and for how frightening it can be. And how fascinating that his anger is so unpredictable to Kylo.

Kylo _could_ predict those flares if granted entry into Hux’s mind, but Hux has still not granted him that.

Hux has still not told Kylo that he trusts Kylo.

Hux has still not told Kylo what Kylo is to him.

Hux is still a mystery.

Kylo can still feel Hux pacing that corridor, but his legs feel heavy like lead and he cannot bring himself to go to Hux. He does not know what to say or how to behave, what unwelcome fantasies might present themselves – if Hux’s anger will be a quick, hot dagger into his chest. If he will see the height of Hux’s anger coming, or if it will crest without warning and damage him beyond repair.

When did General Hux acquire the power to damage Kylo Ren?

The first answers that come to Kylo’s mind are an image and a sensation. Just the translucent grass of their secret illusion, the dark stones and floating blossoms of Hux’s pond, their hair floating weightlessly and Hux’s hand there, touching his hair. Touching him with gentle hands – hands certainly few have known to be gentle.

Hands that callused in his youth for sparring, hands that he keeps soft in adulthood by covering with fitted leather everyday. Hands that have spidery veins, hands with broad palms and long, dexterous fingers. Hands that have held all manner of weapons and tamed wild beasts, hands that have lifted, punched, climbed, pulled, pushed, strangled, directed, been splintered and bled on his way to power. Hands that have a home on the indent of the small of Hux’s back. Hands that made a home in Kylo’s hair.

Hands Kylo has held. Hands that slotted fingers gingerly into the spaces between Kylo’s own, like it was the most natural thing in the cosmos to do.

Hands that barely know how to be gentle, but have tried to be gentle with Kylo anyway.

_Hux’s hands cupping either side of Kylo’s face, staring deeply into his eyes – the intensity of having all of Hux’s focus is intimidating and exhilarating and too heavy, too much, too much but Kylo wants more. Kylo’s arms curling protectively around Hux and he feels small, but Kylo knows Hux is strong despite his size, the walking deception he is; Hux’s lips so close Kylo can **feel** it against his own lips when Hux whispers wantonly and carefully, “ **Kylo** …”_

Kylo shuts his eyes tightly – it feels so real. It feels like a vision, but it can’t be.

Hux is not a man of intimacy, Hux is not a man that allows anyone past his personal space bubble radius of three-to-five feet. Hux is a man that steals and takes and does not truly know how to give. Hux is a man that was once a boy, a boy who either killed his fellow Academy students or wanted everyone to believe he did. Hux is a man with hands capable of and only wanting for destruction. Hux is not a man to be held. Hux is not precious. Hux is not golden.

It all feels like lies.

 _I need more time_ , Kylo decides reluctantly.

He hates to leave Hux in the proverbial dark, but he needs to focus on the threat at the gala. He cannot fail Hux – the General’s life is in his hands as his own life was once in Hux’s. Despite certain failure climbing over the horizon of the sunken Starkiller base, Hux managed to save both their lives with aplomb and dignity. Kylo swears to himself that he must do the same.

And his desire to protect Hux at this gala now, he knows, has little to do with a feeling of debt.

He cannot be distracted. Not by visions or fantasies or whatever bizarre intrusive thoughts his brain cobbles together in some misguided effort to give him pleasure. He cannot be frightened or in distress. Hux is putting faith in Kylo’s abilities – he said so himself. Kylo cannot go on worrying about the solar flares of Hux’s anger, or risk being distracted by the meaningless thoughts of hands.

Kylo leaves the hall and stays in his room for the majority of the next two cycles, in little more than his pants and Hux’s stolen greatcoat, meditating loosely.

He does not want to lose himself in the ether, so he remains tied to reality, the cold dark of his room and the waking galaxy through his concentration on the gala. The gala is no longer a vision, no longer a far-off hypothetical scenario – it is an event he is attending soon and he must protect now what is most cherished to him.

In meditation, Kylo smiles to himself – that admission to himself feels natural and healing.

He has never cherished something before.

When the two cycles have passed and the third is halfway through, Kylo rises from his place on the floor, puts Hux’s coat back into his closet, showers and dresses. He decides he will wait to eat until he is with Hux for dinner.

Locating Hux on the ship just requires that Kylo follow the trail of high-pitched stress to the observation bridge and he tries not to roll his eyes at how aggressively Hux is ignoring his arrival.

He strides, confident as ever, up to Hux and greets him, to which Hux nods and engages no further.

_I would like to speak to you. Privately._

“I haven’t the time right now,” Hux says, not looking up from his holopad, “The gala is in less than twenty hours and there is much to accomplish before I’m forced planet-side for this absurd parade.”

“Oh, Lord Kylo Ren,” Warrant Officer Jardom Gillash comes up to them – he is holding another holopad with something on the screen that likely needs Hux’s signature.

Kylo recalls Gillash being the first name Haas called the day all the officers arrived. He doesn’t know whether or not he particularly cares for Gillash, but when he does a read on the young officer, he finds no sarcasm or disgust.

“It is good to see you back on the bridge,” Jardom comments honestly.

“Why is that?” Kylo asks as neutrally as possible.

“Just – well,” Jardom begins to shy under Hux’s stoic watch, “I only mean that I was concerned something was wrong. It is unnatural these days to see General Hux without you by his side or vice versa. I was almost worried something may have happened to you.”

_“It is unnatural… to see General Hux without you by his side…”_

Kylo decides he likes Jardom.

“I could not agree with you more, Jardom. I thank you for your concerns. I am in fine health, I was simply meditating.”

Jardom, unlike Haas, seems to appreciate the power of Force-users. He is not giving a read of any particular fear that Kylo will hurt him, but he is exuding respect, and even a degree of reverence – which is an emotion often reserved strictly for General Hux. Jardom is surprised and a little flattered that Kylo remembers his name.

 _He is humble_ , Kylo notes, _Hux should keep him._

“Meditating, Lord Kylo Ren? For two entire cycles?”

“Yes,” Hux answers for Kylo, still not looking up from whatever he’s typing into his pad, “Force-users can meditate as if in hibernation, Officer Gillash. Sometimes they meditate so long and with such complete radio silence, you might think they’ve left the ship without warning or suddenly died. Unfortunately, not all dreams come true.”

“Don’t believe him, Jardom,” Kylo starts, irritated with Hux’s attitude, “I come bearing evidence that dreams do come true, as in just four cycles, I will be permanently removed from _Aurora_.”

There’s a spike of energy beside him while he keeps his head directed at Jardom.

_The solar flare._

“You will be leaving us, Lord Kylo Ren?” Jardom asks curiously.

“Yes. I must return to training. I am fully healed and have acquired enough power, rest and energy with which to return to our Supreme Leader.”

“Oh,” Jardom says softly, sadly, “Oh, Officer Vitaan will be so devastated.”

Kylo’s heart sinks a little at remembering her.

“You are… friends? With Officer Vitaan?”

Jardom blushes deeply, evident even against his dark skin; he begins to wave his arms in some sort of refusal, but then scrambles so as not to drop the holopad that nearly falls from his grip. He looks up and away, holding the holopad to his chest when he stammers, “o-oh, no – I don’t, I mean, I don’t think she – we – it’s just that, I have – we have known each other for all our Academy days and I have just, I just know her – uhm, I – uhm… yes. I just. I just know her. That’s… that’s all.”

His eyes are a light brown and very reflective like Nali’s. Kylo thinks that if Nali’s species is compatible with Jardom’s human origin, they might make very beautiful children. Nali is stronger than Jardom – stronger and smarter, but he appears to be someone who would appreciate that about her rather than be intimidated by it.

Kylo is about to suggest that Jardom ask to sit with Nali during their next shared meal, and to even tell her that Kylo sent him so that she can trust his intentions, but Hux takes the holopad from Jardom and says sharply, “my apologies, Officer Gillash, but I have business to attend to with Lord Kylo Ren. Please, proceed with work as usual – I doubt I will be long.”

Without so much as looking at Kylo, Hux takes off with a furious stride, and Kylo follows him this time.

Kylo follows Hux to the conference room he last destroyed – it has still gone unrepaired. When Kylo makes a note of that, Hux says, “yes, well, new conference rooms from the ground up aren’t exactly in the budget right now – what is this asinine garbage about you leaving?”

Kylo’s heart starts thudding.

He might be mistaken, but Hux seems more handsome than the last he saw the General.

It must be the short time spent apart. He just forgot. Hux has always been beautiful. It’s just never been this nerve-wracking.

“I have been summoned by Snoke to further my training.”

Hux’s eyes turn frantic, his shoulders rising up by his red ears, “and – what of the gala, what about –"

“Breathe,” Kylo offers calmly, “I said, four cycles until I depart. I will not abandon you now, my dear General. You will not face the gala alone.”

“Don’t you ‘dear General,’ me, you great buffoon! Gone for two entire cycles, off planning stars knows what with Supreme Leader and now you’re just _leaving_? Out of the blue? And I’m meant to think that’s in no way suspicious? Do you think I’m an idiot? I honestly –"

Kylo kneels before Hux on one knee, his head bent down and this effectively silences Hux's raving.

“When I last saw you, I was losing control of myself. My attachment to you – it has driven me half-mad, and when I’m enraged, my anger fires in all directions. Even in yours. I never mean for it to. I went to Snoke to ask for guidance. I went to ask him if there was something wrong with me for my sense of loyalty to you.”

Hux’s heart is beating at forty-three beats per minute.

“Anyone with a functioning brain can tell there is something wrong with you – why should I believe –"

_"I am consumed by my thoughts of him – I cannot go a single cycle without seeing him or I am irate, unfocused and cannot even meditate without thoughts of him coming, **unbidden!** I am never **satiated** – when I learn something more about him, my hunger for knowledge just **grows**. I keep expecting this want to deteriorate, but it only worsens. The more he speaks, the more I **want** him to say. The more he spends time with me, the **more** I want to see him. I have never been attached to anyone or anything like this – never. It feels too dangerous. I… I am fearful..."_

_Snoke, smiling down at him, “you are ready to advance, Kylo Ren. When you return from the gala, I will grant you three cycles of rest and then you are to come to me…”_

_“Your attachment is deep… this is a good thing, Kylo Ren.”_

Probably dizzy, Hux blinks rapidly, shaking his head a little. He’s a little disoriented by Kylo sharing that memory with him, unused to having images projected directly into his mind like that – Kylo isn’t entirely sure why he censored some of it. Everything still feels like an open wound; he isn’t ready for Hux to know the whole of that conversation. Why he has this hesitation, he isn’t sure. He just feels unready.

Looking down at the crown of Kylo’s head, Hux asks, “…and so… what did he say?”

“He instructed me to move in with you until I am to leave.”

“…he what?”

Kylo turns his head up, feeling how Hux wishes to see his face; he wants for this desire. He wants for Hux to wish for his company and attention as he does for Hux’s. He wants his madness reciprocated.

With just four cycles left to be with him, he wants more than anything to know what he is to Hux.

“I will not follow his orders unless they align with your own,” Kylo swears to him earnestly, “I know I have hurt you again. And I am likely to do so again in the future – I have never had a friend, Hux. I have never been attached to a person like this. I have never really… cared before. I am unpracticed in this. But I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. It wasn’t my intention. And I… I have no desire to outrun you.”

“But you are still leaving.”

That is true, Kylo even admitted so apathetically on the bridge not minutes before, but somehow, when it leaves Hux’s mouth, the tone of his voice stings. There isn’t anger – the solar flare is gone. Something else has taken its place. Something Kylo doesn’t recognize. But it pains him. The way this unfamiliar emotion radiates off of Hux burns him from the inside like a fever.

He wants to tell Hux that he won’t leave – that he’ll never leave Hux’s side, but he can’t say so. He wants to tell Hux that he cherishes him. He wants to tell Hux that… he will _miss_ Hux. That he hopes Hux will miss him too…

He can’t say any of that, though.

“I have no other choice, Hux. Please, try to understand.”

With eyes impossible to discern feeling from, Hux looks away from Kylo, ahead at the door.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I have no way of knowing.”

“Well – when did he say you’d be back?” Hux asks impatiently.

“He… didn’t.”

Silence ensues.

Hux is tense, his ears are red, and there are thoughts consuming his eyes. His gloved hands have curled into fists. Kylo can feel Hux’s migraine as if it were his own – he wants to heal it, but cannot be moved from his station on the ground, at Hux's feet.

“He didn’t what? Give you an estimate?”

“No,” Kylo answers reluctantly, the back of his eyes feeling hot, “No, I… I am not predicted to return to _Aurora_.”

More silence.

“You can stand, Ren.”

Kylo straightens up and Hux is unreadable, refusing to look at Kylo’s mask where he knows Kylo’s eyes are upon him. Kylo wonders what it is Hux is worried will happen if he looks at Kylo.

Hux’s heart is beating at thirty beats per minute now.

Too slow.

Kylo has no idea what to make of that.

“I haven’t eaten this entire cycle,” Hux announces, as if the air weren’t hot and thick as burning wax, “My head has been throbbing mercilessly. Will you…”

“Do a magic trick?” Kylo says with humor, tilting his head.

“Use the Force,” Hux corrects, his eyes flashing up for a second only to look away again, “I would be grateful for the healing.”

_Fascinating. Always fascinating, Hux._

“As always, it would be my pleasure, Hux.”

Hux nods and takes his hat off, twisting it in his hands before putting it on the damaged conference table where he put both his holopads. Kylo removes his right glove and combs once through Hux’s hair – a physical comfort for his physical pain. Hux’s eyes flutter shut and Kylo is sad to not have the opportunity to look into them. He wonders if Hux too is wondering how he will go back to a life of constant physical pain without Kylo’s healing.

The migraine is spread over the right and left hemisphere – Kylo can tell this pain is almost entirely self-inflicted. Hux has driven this migraine to such a sharp pain by his own anxiety.

When the healing is complete, they stand in silence for a while. Kylo allows his hand to slide down Hux’s cheek, his neck and to his shoulder. Hux doesn’t stop him.

“Well,” Hux starts awkwardly, opening his eyes, “you – what will you be wearing to the gala?”

Kylo tilts his head again, brows being drawn in, “…was I meant to –"

“I knew it. _Ren_ ,” Hux groans in annoyance, “You are _hopeless_. No one knows what you look like but for our crew, that scavenger girl, and the traitor. You can’t just – you’re so conspicuous, Ren. You can’t just waltz into a gala, and announce to the galaxy that you are the very feared and rumored Kylo Ren. People know your mask, but they don’t know your face – you cannot wear your robes and mask to the gala.”

Kylo spreads his arms out a little, looking down at himself.

“I… don’t own anything else, Hux. I have never needed to.”

Hux rolls his eyes and takes one of the holopads from the table, “I’ll have a few uniforms and outfits delivered to my quarters. You can decide yourself whatever you’d like to wear.”

“Uniform?” Kylo asks, “Do you mean to say I should be impersonating someone else?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Hux says emphatically, “That is precisely what I mean to say.”

“You’ve an optional identity for me?”

Clearly, Hux has thought about this, but he is reluctant to speak for some reason. In something close to shyness, Hux looks down at his boots and then asks, “you… would you be opposed to being called Ben for the event? It would only be for the event, of course – but it is a name you… you at least will recognize as an alarm bell if I sound it.”

Kylo is hesitant and it is apparent that Hux is too. Hux has a point, though – Kylo has a visceral reaction to that name, and if Hux were to scream it from across a ballroom, Kylo would answer to it instinctively.

A knock comes to the door and Hux calls for whoever is there to welcome themselves in. An officer from the bridge has another holopad in hand and says Hux is needed at the commands again. Hux opens his mouth, but not before Kylo raises a palm and looks at the officer intensely.

“General Hux is not required by anyone for the rest of the work cycle. Any and all questions, requests, or duties meant for General Hux will be redirected to Captain Phasma. If Captain Phasma asks why, you will tell her that General Hux is indisposed for the time.”

The officer’s eyes glaze over, and they repeat back robotically, “General Hux is not required by anyone for the rest of the work cycle. Any and all questions, requests, or duties meant for General Hux will be redirected to Captain Phasma. If Captain Phasma asks why, I will tell her that General Hux is indisposed for the time.”

Kylo lowers his hand and asks, “then why are you here, exactly?”

The officer shakes their head, their eyes still a little lost. They look down at their holopad, between Kylo and Hux and then they bow, apologizing profusely.

“I-I don’t know, I’m so sorry, General Hux, I… I will go to Captain Phasma now – my apologies. This insubordination will never occur again, I swear it.”

Once the officer leaves, Hux turns to Kylo, eyes twinkling the way Kylo so admires and asks, “…that was a mind trick?”

“Yes,” Kylo answers, turning to Hux, “Command can wait. You require food and some rest. The gala is less than twenty hours away, and I apparently have nothing to wear for it. And, as you so delicately put it, I am _hopeless_. So, really, your priority should be with me.”

“You just…” Hux seems to hate that he’s smirking, “Ren, you just got me a half-cycle off work.”

“Yes. Are you impressed?” Kylo asks in genuine surprise, “I didn’t think you’d be impressed by mind tricks. They’re so simple.”

“Nothing about the Force is simple, Ren,” Hux says, “I have grown acutely aware of this recently.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Try one on me!”

“Absolutely not – it won’t work anyway.”

“I insist, Ren!” Hux proclaims, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child, “I must know if I can withstand it!”

“Hux – this is absurd. You are too intellectual. Your mental fortitude is too great. A mind trick as I performed on your officer will not work on you. Now, can you please tell me if I look at all convincing in this?”

Kylo spreads his arms and turns around a little, trying to display the awkward fit of the uniform.

Slanting his lips, Hux pulls his brows together and squints his eyes, as if that will make the vision better.

The military uniform is not at all convincing – Kylo may have the body of a warrior, but it doesn’t look right on him. He doesn’t have the aura of an orderly man. Millicent appears to agree, her stare dry and uninterested.

Kylo sighs in aggravation at Hux’s unhappy expression and undresses for the umpteenth time.

“If you’re so sure it won’t work, why can’t we just try?”

“I can’t believe you’re being so insistent about this," Kylo huffs as he shoves another shirt over his head, "I’ve never seen you so unreasonable before.”

“Well, _I_ think _you’re_ the one being unreasonable.”

Why he expected any different response is beyond Kylo; he raises an unimpressed brow at Hux, then goes back to the robes, and coats, and uniforms strewn over Hux’s work desk and chair. He digs, flips over three jackets he knows he’s already tried on, and after one more failed outfit, he finally finds robes he actually quite likes. High collared, all black with gold trimmings – it will look very nice in comparison to Hux’s white uniform with gold.

He holds up the most outer layer to himself and looks to Hux to gauge his reaction. Hux is in his pajamas again – having eaten, been relieved of his pain, and given the work cycle off courtesy of the Force, he’s in a rather pleasant mood. He’s relaxed and pleased to not be bothered by any calls or messages, though he compulsively keeps checking his holopad for them. And apparently, he’s very amused by Kylo’s hair getting disheveled every time he has to pull something on or over his head - there have been a lot of passing comments beginning with 'if you would just cut your hair, you know...' that Kylo has worked hard to ignore.

“It will look nice, I think," Hux says about the robes, "Try to trick me into thinking it won’t.”

Kylo rolls his eyes, and barely hides a smirk, “that’s not how that works.”

“Then show me how it works!” Hux exclaims, an almost-smile tickling the edges of his mouth.

Kylo changes into the black robes and slips on the matching boots without answering Hux’s demands. There is a gold belt to strap around his waist, and the gold trim glitters in the light of Hux’s room. He partially ties his hair back, and tugs a little at the high collar before turning to Hux completely and, again, spreading his arms and turning.

“Well? Am I a different man?”

With his crossed arms, Hux refuses to answer – just stares coldly at Kylo in retaliation.

“Hux, I… I really can’t believe _I’m_ the one saying this to _you_ , but you are overreacting.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hux straightens his posture and says, “come kneel before me, like you did earlier.”

Kylo is a bit wary of the request; the way heat spreads over his chest and in his stomach at the sound of it. That definitely shouldn’t be his body’s response to Hux telling him to kneel.

He follows the order, though, and once he is knelt in front of Hux who is seated on his bed, Hux leans forward and tucks a stray lock behind Kylo’s ear.

“This will do nicely. I should have known, really. You’re the descendent of nobility – it would make sense that this would so visibly suit you.”

Kylo follows the movement of Hux’s hand through the corner of his eye, keeping his eyes lidded and low. He thinks that if he looks into Hux’s eyes that moment, Hux will see some sort of written sign of desire in his stare, some sign of something Kylo doesn't understand enough to define or own.

“I’d really like to see what it feels like, Ren,” Hux says.

“But why?”

“I have never really known why challenge appeals to me – it just always has. I want to know what it’s like to fight off a mind trick.”

Grimacing, Kylo knows before he speaks that he’s surrendered, and so does Hux.

The man looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“Fine.”

Hux leans his elbows on his knees, coming close to Kylo – crossing his own personal space boundary of his three-to-five foot radius rule without seeming to notice.

Or maybe he just doesn’t care anymore. Perhaps he’s too relaxed to worry anymore.

Either way, it makes Kylo flush up to his forehead.

“What should I attempt to convince you of?”

“I haven’t the slightest,” Hux admits, looking eager and excited – it’s endearing. Dangerously so.

“I’ve an idea,” Kylo announces, raising his palm, “but you must be patient. I highly doubt I will be able to trick you – particularly because you’ve actually asked me to perform the trick. You’re already too aware. But your mind is sturdy too. It will take a lot of concentration. Bear with me.”

“Certainly,” Hux agrees easily.

Kylo shuts his eyes and hones in on Hux, mapping the surface of his brain.

Mind tricks are simple because they usually only require toying with the frontal lobe, but for a mind strong as Hux’s, Kylo is seeking out the temporal lobe as well. Impairing the frontal lobe through use of the Force can effect one’s flexibility in thinking – spontaneity and free-thinking can be manipulated or entirely eviscerated there. It is also where social behaviors and moods can be altered, as well as a steady, safe place to insert a persistent, intrusive, or repetitive thought.

The temporal lobe, however, is where he can interfere with long and short-term memory – even insert memories of his own creation. The greatest damage done to the temporal lobe through the Force during a mind trick has little to do with the memory, but the small portion of the lobe that, if impaired, can cause a disturbance with selective attention to what a person sees or hears – selective reality. This more than even his natural abilities with the Force is his only hope in fooling Hux of anything he doesn’t want to be fooled of.

Once he feels both lobes at attention and under the pull of his power, he opens his eyes to look into Hux’s and recites to Hux, “neither of us will be attending the gala. It was cancelled due to the assassination of the Commandant.”

It’s a simple lie, but he knows it won’t work. Some electric impulse can be felt from Hux’s frontal lobe, and a tickling of his temporal lobe, but nothing bends to his will. Not even slightly.

Hux gasps quietly, bringing a hand to feel at the left side of his head, “I felt that – I don’t believe you, but I feel it. It’s like… it’s strange, it’s like a tug or a submersion. Or something born between. Keep going – try again.”

Kylo’s brow furrows with curiosity – here he had been so sure mind tricks would never fascinate Hux, that illusions would be what he was most intrigued by, but he was wrong, clearly. After having gotten the chance to better know Hux, Kylo supposes it makes sense. Hux’s greatest pleasures and victories lie in psychological warfare – the power of controlling another person’s mind is probably a heady fantasy to him.

“Neither of us will be attending the gala. It was cancelled due to the assassination of the Commandant.”

“Is it necessary to use the same words? Does that effect the probability of it working?”

“Yes,” Kylo sighs out in defeat, dropping his hand, “but again, Hux, it will not work on you.”

Hux’s mouth screws up as if he’s disappointed. He looks to Millicent lying next to him, then back to Kylo.

“Try something more outlandish,” Hux offers “– perhaps the gala is too forged into reality for me to be tricked by."

This is untrue. Lies most connected to reality are more effective, because it is a bending of reality rather than a rearranging of it. He doesn’t want to correct Hux, though. He chose that lie because it was just a slight trajectory shift of their reality and Hux probably wishes desperately that it would be cancelled and he’d probably be glad to believe his father is dead – desire for an untruth leaves the brain more susceptible to being fooled.

If that lie had not worked, Kylo is sure nothing else will. He stays silent, though. He doesn’t want to disappoint Hux.

Biting his lip, Kylo nods, certain of what’s about to come out of his mouth and unsure why he is going to say it and why he can’t stop himself.

“Your name was never a secret from me – you will even allow me to sign it on our marriage certificate tomorrow. Phasma is our witness, the ceremony will otherwise be quiet and private.”

Hux’s eyes widen, his frontal and temporal lobe lighting up again. His ears turn red and Kylo somehow feels Hux’s heart thud.

“My… no – you don’t know my name,” Hux states, “and… and we’re not getting married.”

He sounds just a _touch_ unsure...

Kylo is fascinated.

“Your name was never a secret from me – you will even allow me to sign it on our marriage certificate tomorrow. Phasma is our witness, the ceremony will otherwise be quiet and private.”

That bubble that surrounds Hux is back - the one that bumps into Kylo's, the one that tugged on him on Starkiller. Kylo can feel Hux’s frontal lobe pushing back against him, rejecting the idea that this could be true. The temporal lobe is still lighting up, though – still exchanging electricity, synapses crackling - the reality through the temporal lobe is rearranging somehow.

“You don’t know my name,” Hux states, sounding even less certain than before.

“Your name was never a secret from me –"

Kylo creates an illusion around them, dressing Hux in his most formal uniform – the one he will be wearing to the gala. He adds flourish to his own robes, surrounds them by a private balcony, curtained by vines and the flowers Kylo made for Hux’s pond. There are two moons high in the sky.

He inserts an auditory hallucination of his own voice saying, _“you are breathtaking in the moonlight,"_ to which Hux audibly gasps.

“You will even allow me to sign it on our marriage certificate tomorrow. Phasma is our witness, the ceremony will otherwise be quiet and private.”

Hux’s eyes are wide and his face is a warm hue.

Kylo glances down at Hux’s throat, admires the illusion of dramatic shadows playing there, the moonbeams twinkling against his robes and medals.

When he meets Hux’s stare again, he sees it’s just a little unfocused.

“Your name was never a secret from me – you will even allow me to sign it on our marriage certificate tomorrow. Phasma is our witness, the ceremony will otherwise be quiet and private.”

Hux’s eyelids look heavy, his breathing is a little strange – like he’s fighting something off physically despite sitting still.

“My name was never… never…”

If Kylo keeps at this, maybe three or four more repetitions – maybe a few more additions to the illusion of this wedding venue and Hux _will_ believe him.

It is frightening to know that truly – he can take whatever he wants. That used to be an empowering prospect, but now, with Hux vulnerable and looking at him with the reflection of moons in his azure eyes, it’s impossible to not be terrified.

“Never... never – no, I altered… I – no one knows my name. No. _No one_ knows my name,” Hux says decidedly.

Kylo allows the illusion to fade away and tries one more time, “your name was never a secret from me – you will even allow me to sign it on our marriage certificate tomorrow. Phasma is our witness, the ceremony will otherwise be quiet and peaceful.”

Hux hesitates briefly, but the sharpness returns to his eyes and he declares, “you _don’t_ know my name, Ren, and we are _not_ getting married.”

Kylo stands up, brushing off the robes and readying to take them off to hang them in preparation for the gala. As he turns away from Hux to undo the opening of his robes, he says plainly, “I told you it wouldn’t work.”

Hux doesn’t reply and Kylo doesn’t press him to.

That sleep cycle is spent expanding Hux’s illusion – together they build and design a house. It is simple in design, minimalist, but there is a fireplace inside, three bedrooms and space enough for a large family. The kitchen has glossy, granite counters, the dining table is constructed entirely from Hux’s memory of his own from childhood, there is a room full of art supplies with a wide window overlooking their land. Hux is flattered by the art room – Kylo is able to feel it, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

Hux walks through the room, touching the drawing board, paper already laid out on top of it for him.

The house is lit mostly by candles and faerie lights; there is a patio with glass protection, but a perfect view of the sky. Kylo surrounds the front of the home with colorful flora and Hux tells him that he wants all weather patterns that bring snow, some that bring thunderous showers and others that bring cool, sunny weather.

“No oppressive heat, though,” Hux requests, “Heat makes me unbearable.”

“You’re under the impression you’re bearable any other time?” Kylo jokes.

Hux scowls at him, but there’s no heat there – it’s friendly and well meaning.

“Careful, Ren.”

“Never.”

Kylo gives them a beach, a long walk away from the house through the grass and wooded areas. The sand doesn’t stick and the waves are calm. Hux tells him it’s the only beach he’s ever liked.

Eventually, Kylo fades the illusion away.

“What about Huxen Grasslands?”

Kylo turns to Hux, they’re both draped lazily over Hux’s couch in the common area.

“What is that supposed to be?”

“The name. The name for the illusion,” Hux explains, leaning his side against the back of the couch, “I’d use the ‘r’ of your last surname, but Huxren sounds stranger. At least to me. Do you have any better ideas?”

“No Huxlo? That’s not appealing at all?” Kylo offers jokingly.

Bare foot against Kylo's thigh, Hux kicks him gently from the other side of the couch and repeats to himself, “Huxlo Grasslands? Mmm… no. Frankly, I don’t think my name should be in it at all. It’s such a hissed word. Doesn’t sound relaxing at all.”

“That’s a pity,” Kylo starts seriously, “I quite like your name.”

_My first name would be befitting of the illusion._

Kylo quirks a brow, _are you considering disclosing that information finally?_

There’s a pause, then, _no._

Kylo sighs long-sufferingly, throwing his head back over the arm of the couch in a melodramatic display of devastating disappointment.

“Kylo… do you know how to dance?”

“What now?”

“Oh – stop being dramatic and pick your head up, you infant,” Hux chastises.

Kylo sighs again before following through, his hair feels like it’s pointed in a lot of different directions. It feels like a mess – it reminds him of Ben Solo and how he liked for his hair to be messy.

He tries not to think on that for longer than a second.

“Do you know how to dance?” Hux repeats.

“No,” Kylo replies, “Is dancing mandatory?”

“No, no – certainly not. Can’t picture you dancing, anyway. You’ve probably been a wallflower your entire life.”

“Wallflower?”

Hux tilts his head to the side and responds with a curious tone to his voice, “yes. Wallflower. Have you never heard this term?”

Kylo shakes his head, and, without mocking him, Hux explains, “a wallflower refers to a person who, at a social event – specifically, dances – is too shy or estranged to go out on the floor. Rather, they might show up at the event, dressed nicely, and choose to stay by a wall, watching others dance instead. That’s the flower bit – you show up looking beautiful, but choose to decorate the wall rather than the dance floor.”

“Hux, I’m so touched you think I’m beautiful.”

Kylo is only half-joking.

Hux rolls his eyes and replies, “well, certainly not right now. You look like an absolute disaster right now.”

“A _disaster_?” Kylo emphasizes, touching at his head and mussed hair, “You don’t think that’s a little bit exaggerated?”

“You can’t see your hair,” Hux tells him with a smirk.

Kylo reaches up, dragging a hand through it only to muss it more than before and then Hux admits, “it will be a shame, though – you’ll look very nice at the gala. I’m sure you’ll devastate hopeful suitors the entire evening.”

“Well,” Kylo begins, standing up, “ – a _shame_ – I can’t have that. To imagine disappointing you now, when we’ve come so far – it’s unthinkable, really. So, get up and teach me to dance.”

“You – really?” Hux asks incredulously.

“Really,” Kylo reaffirms.

Hux looks up at him from under his brows, an assessing and begrudgingly pleased expression on his face.

“Fine,” Hux agrees, “But if I discover you have two left feet, I am not sacrificing my toes for this investment.”

“Completely understandable. I promise to follow your every command, General.”

Hux’s heart rate jumps a little and Hux knows Kylo can sense this – neither of them say anything about it. Kylo extends his hand and says, “come now. We’ve an arrangement.”

When Hux says they need more space, Kylo Force-pushes all of the furniture to the walls, clearing the middle of the common area. Hux mutters something like “suppose that will work,” and then positions himself at one far end of the room.

“Now, this is a cross-step waltz – what Basic is to galactic language, the cross-step waltz is to galactic dance. I trust you’ll be coordinated enough to handle it,” Hux starts, “I’ll explain what I’m doing as I’m doing it and after a few goes at watching –"

“I’ll only need to watch it once.”

Hux gives him a dry look and, intent on ignoring him, just concludes, “after a few goes at watching, I want you to stand next to me and mirror me. Once you’ve got the steps down, I’ll let you lead.”

“That a promise?”

“You’re intolerable.”

“Millicent disagrees.”

“Millicent absolutely agrees with me. I’m her adoptive father.”

“So, what, she can’t have opinions of her own?”

“She doesn’t like you.”

“I think she does.”

“Millicent doesn’t like you. She told me so herself.”

“First of all, Millicent is not a woman for gossip and secondly, she’s at an age now where young kittens blossom into sophisticated cats – her rebellious phase will pass, but you should focus on validating her. What type of adoptive father do you intend to be?”

“If you’re implying my treatment of Millicent might drive her to say, murder me on the bridge of a weapon of mass destruction, then I’ll have you know I would die feeling nothing but pride for her.”

“Well, now you’re just being rude.”

With hands on his hips, Hux declares, “Ren, I am one more smart ass comment away from kicking you out and going to bed.”

That’s a lie and Hux is actually much closer to laughing than anything else, but Kylo doesn’t feel inclined to call Hux out on it. He likes teasing Hux – and Hux, for whatever reason, seems to like being teased. There’s a mutual understanding during these exchanges. Against all odds, it seems that they’ve become friends somehow. Even if Hux won’t admit it – Kylo knows his admiration of Hux is not one-sided.

Hux likes spending time with Kylo, whether he admits it or not.

First, Hux performs for Kylo, allowing Kylo to see how he moves with an invisible partner. He uses words like, “pivot,” “windmill,” and “goncho,” and phrases like “grapevine rollaway,” “chained rollaways,” “shadow figures” and “illusion turn.”

Kylo, intent on proving himself, studies it closely and then lines himself up next to Hux and they mimic the steps together. They run through it a few times before Hux admits that Kylo caught on faster than he thought and that he’ll allow Kylo to lead. When Kylo asks why that is, Hux tells him, “you being just slightly taller and of larger build – it just makes more sense for you to lead. Why are you questioning me? You didn’t know how to dance half an hour ago. Is it that you don’t want to dance with me?”

“Not at all,” Kylo responds honestly, “Truly – I am glad to. Flattered, even.”

Hux has clearly mistaken this for another joke.

Kylo is beginning to think Hux is being willfully ignorant.

After another assessing once-over of Kylo with pursed lips, Hux shrugs a little and shuts down his own anxiety.

“No broken toes,” Hux warns as he steps up to Kylo.

“No, certainly not,” Kylo answers.

They both keep their arms high and well-postured, both holding the other’s hand on one side, their other hands splayed over the backs of their respective shoulders.

“Music volume at fifteen percent,” Hux announces.

Kylo is surprised – unready for instrumental music to start flowing from Hux’s office desk. It’s in the middle of some wind and string song – like it was paused some time ago while Hux was listening to it alone.

To imagine Hux alone in his room, lying on his bed or drawing at his desk, listening to the orchestra is somehow relaxing.

Really, the thought of Hux at any degree of peace is relaxing to Kylo.

“Right, Ren – well, you start on the beat.”

Kylo nods and once he feels comfortable assuming the tempo of the song, he leads Hux, never before so mindful of where his feet are. Whereas he sometimes has to glance down at his feet and where he is turning to, Hux is able to keep his head up and his eyes focused on Kylo.

It’s slow, patient and peaceful. Kylo begins to wonder if there is an actual, functioning army right outside the door or if that’s just a dream. If everything has been a dream but for Hux.

Perhaps all the pain has been some sort of nightmare, the armies and the deaths, the anger and the pulling apart of his psyche by the Light and the Dark – maybe it has all been some dream, night terror, or delusion. And the only thing that’s been real is Hux. Hux, now, tall and strong in his arms. Hux and his vibrant hair and shockingly blue eyes. Hux and all that he says and does and is.

When they are finishing the waltz with rapid pivots, Kylo’s hand slides down from Hux’s shoulder blade to the incline of his waist.

The shift of his hand stops Hux mid-motion and while the song continues to play, Hux is paused under Kylo’s stare. It’s intimate – how close they’re standing and how defiantly they’re looking into each other’s eyes – neither one of them willing to be the one to look away first.

Experimentally, Hux leans his weight a little more towards Kylo, their chests touching. Kylo’s hand slides lower – lower than might be appropriate, but Hux doesn’t stop him.

Hux’s heart is beating at sixty beats per minute.

Kylo’s is beating at ninety.

“Hux…”

Kylo isn’t sure what he’s about to say or ask, but his blood is steaming and he’s never been so close to a person – not like this. When he and Hux wrestle or ground-fight – that’s so unlike what they have now. Their bodies are close when they spar, sometimes even closer than they’re standing now, but it never feels this close.

Before Kylo can allow whatever uncensored thought he was about to expose to slip, Hux asks softly, “are you… planning to finish this?”

With a single downward glance, Kylo nods and, without moving his hand back to its proper place, slowly finishes out the dance, rewarded with Hux’s approving, if slightly sarcastic applause afterward.

Hux complains about being exhausted, so Kylo rearranges the room to its prior order and they both sit on the couch again.

Kylo isn’t sure why he’s still there. He should leave. He probably should have left ages ago.

Then, curiously, Hux _yawns_ – it’s the first time Kylo has ever seen him yawn. It is so simply strange, as all unfamiliar things are, but it’s endearing. Hux with his quiet yawning, covered by a lax hand – his sleepy eyes looking up to Kylo from beneath his long, red lashes.

Kylo should definitely leave.

“You’re… certain I won’t die tomorrow?”

Kylo straightens his neck and back a little, staring more certainly into Hux’s eyes and he states almost defiantly, “I swear to you, your life is safe in my hands, Hux. I will not fail you.”

Hux hesitates before nodding, then looking down at his knees. The shine of his hair is distracting – it’s just a little ruffled, he looks soft and small. The images Haas showed Kylo of Hux riding a great beast into battle, armed to the teeth, stories of Hux mercilessly killing students at the Academy, even the man Kylo saw order the firing of Starkiller – they are not the same man that sits before him.

This man is so plainly human. So mortal. So impermanent.

This version of Hux, this form of Hux, is meant just for his eyes.

He wants that to remain true until his dying breath. That no one will know Hux as he does now – as he will come to in the future.

He wants to remind Hux of the many times he’s proclaimed he is unafraid of death anyway, but there’s not what comes out.

“And besides,” Kylo adds with a smirk, “a fine General of your like shouldn’t die by a blaster shot at some flamboyant and ostentatious gala. Too unbefitting, and too unremarkable a way to perish.”

Hux looks at Kylo, wide-eyed, ears red, and Kylo smirks at him, “truly, it’d be in poor taste.”

Kylo is worried briefly that his joke was not received in good humor, but then, just as a smile starts to break out over Hux’s face, he hides away into the folds of his arms over his knees. He laughs, his shoulders shaking, mumbling that Kylo is insufferable and Kylo smiles gently at the General – the imposing and ice-cold General of the First Order with his naked toes curling and his rumpled hair.

The galaxy should not fear Hux for his militant power and prestige, not for his striking genius in warfare, psychology and engineering and the galaxy certainly shouldn’t and could not fear this private Hux that only Kylo knows.

The galaxy should fear that all these men exist in the same body. The galaxy should fear Hux’s broad shoulders, the freckles at the turn of his jaw, the shimmer of his fiery hair and the burn of his cobalt eyes. The galaxy should fear Hux’s dexterous hands, nimble fingers and elegant wrists. The galaxy should fear his slim waist, his long legs, his silhouette against the glow of his viewport.

The galaxy should fear that body. That body that harbors a soul split into many, all equally powerful, all equally devastating.

And the galaxy should fear what Kylo would do to any and all that even so much as consider bringing harm to Hux.

That, the galaxy should fear most of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The robes I describe Kylo as wearing are a sort of combination between [arriku’s](http://arriku.tumblr.com/) design [here](http://arriku.tumblr.com/post/139683805187/warmup-sketch-amidala-bens) and [lazy-afternooner’s](http://lazy-afternooner.tumblr.com/) Kylo Amidala design [here](http://lazy-afternooner.tumblr.com/post/144756296386/prince-finn-emperor-hux-amidalas). (more expansions and versions of that outfit are [here ](http://lazy-afternooner.tumblr.com/post/142543115591/know-your-place)and seriously so, so beautiful. The top middle one is most like the outfit I imagine Kylo in for the gala.)
> 
> In regard to the cross-step waltz, if you want to see what dance they’re performing in this chapter, [this is a link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1V2BLHpVBT4) to a very good video of what it would look like ;D
> 
> [The art in this chapter](http://loserchildhotpants.tumblr.com/post/147900589450/i-do-not-know-what-to-do-with-my-limbs) is created by Lan, who can be found on Tumblr at [villainyforbeginners](http://villainyforbeginners.tumblr.com/) and who I need to baKE A THOUSAND CAKES FOR /CRYING/


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger warning: Kylo Force chokes someone pretty violently.  
> If there's anything else I should put a TW for, please tell me in the comments.  
> Hope you enjoy the updates! <3

The venue is garish and hyperbolic. Kylo hates it from the moment they step out of their pod, but loyally, he follows Hux inside.

The mansion is surrounded by garden, obviously imported flora, and the moon, high in the sky, is full, casting elegant shadows over Hux’s profile.

Before leaving _Aurora_ , Captain Phasma was handed responsibility for all work oversight until Hux’s return. There, Haas had perverse thoughts about undressing Hux that Kylo scowled at him for. When Haas asked who this “forlorn looking,” gentleman was, Nali replied, “is it not obvious, Haas? Who would be beside General Hux on such an important night but Lord Kylo Ren?”

Haas was taken aback at this revelation, and Kylo smirked at him.

_Jealousy doesn’t suit you well, Naos Haas. Should I tell Hux now the thoughts you’ve been having of him, or are you still intent on explaining those thoughts to him in some made-up privacy you think you’ll somehow attain with him?_

Paling further, Haas fell back a step, falling into Jardom and jumping away from him immediately after. Jardom mentioned that both Hux and Kylo looked very handsome.

“Thank you, Jardom – Nali,” Kylo began, a twinkle in his eye, “Jardom has expressed intrigue about your internship with Captain Phasma – perhaps you should indulge him this cycle.”

Jardom’s shoulders stiffened and he was so alarmed – when Nali looked at him, his heart rate doubled in time. He smiled awkwardly at her and she said, “I had no idea you'd taken an interest, Officer Gillash. I would be happy to talk to you about it.”

At a loss for coherency, Jardom opened and closed his mouth a few times, then shut it and nodded to her. He looked to Kylo in question.

_One of us should at least have a pleasant evening, no? When you get the chance, take her mind off of work. Ask to have dinner with her. I am most certain she will accept the invitation. Keep her smiling, Jardom. She is a special one._

Jardom nodded fervently.

_Yes, Lord Kylo Ren. She is. Thank you._

Kylo nodded to him, gave one last withering look at Haas who was openly glaring at him and then a wink at Nali who smiled beautifully at him. It empowered him – he has never really cared for young people, preferring to socialize among his peers whenever he was forced to socialize at all. But something about Nali draws him in, and he hopes that she and Jardom have a good rest cycle together.

Nali deserves someone she can trust, and Kylo thinks Jardom may just be that person.

Once they boarded the travel pod, Kylo allowed himself to really look at Hux. His uniform is ivory and gold, his medals all pinned to his chest, twinkling like stars, his shoes shined beyond perfection, not a single crease or wrinkle to be found. His hair is combed back, but a few strands have been intentionally left on his forehead. His eyes almost clash with the entire image of him for how luminously blue they shimmer.

Hux acknowledged Kylo’s company with a nod, but did not speak for the entire trip to the gala.

He is exuding nervousness still, and it was only once they got off the pod that Hux fixed his white gloves that needed no fixing and said, “you look immensely handsome tonight, Ren.”

Kylo was fairly shocked by the compliment. It warmed him.

He bravely extended his hand, curling a gloved finger beneath Hux’s chin and lifting it to force Hux’s eyes up from the cuff he was anxiously tugging at.

Hux followed Kylo’s hand with no opposition. Kylo smiled down to Hux and said, “thank you. You are the epitome of perfection tonight; your cuffs need no toying with. Try to turn that composure into honest ease, Hux. I am beside you, and you needn’t fear any beast while I am beside you.”

With a swallow and hesitant nod from Hux, Kylo let go of Hux’s chin and then offered his arm; how Hux did not hesitate in the slightest to link their arms made Kylo’s heart pound. Kylo’s black and gold robes are befitting, and he’s even grown to like them. His hair is down, but managed and he’s done all he can to make himself as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

That Hux thinks he is handsome is really all that matters to him.

His lightsaber is hidden under the innermost robe of his attire, and while Hux’s white and gold uniform draws attention, Kylo is determined to lie low. He uses the Force weakly to make himself go mostly unnoticed. He can’t make himself invisible, but he can manipulate the mass vision enough that he can be forgettable and unremarkable. His focus is more directed toward weapon detection.

There must be at least a thousand people inside.

Once they walk through the door, Kylo lets go of Hux’s arm.

At being let go of, Hux looks to him with some mild concern, and Kylo shakes his head once.

_People will want to talk to you, General. I must remain inconspicuous. I must focus my attentions on protecting you. Trying to pin any treasonous thoughts in a room so full will be near to impossible. I will be close at all times._

_Please, do not stray far, Ren._

Kylo nods again, and they walk together through the crowds – by the far wall is an enormous orchestra playing softly. There are six, long tables of foods from several different cultures, stretching over at least four planets of the Mid Rim. Kylo should eat, really, but his nerves keep him from approaching the table.

Hux too has not eaten all day – not for a migraine, but for his anxiety.

They are both on edge. As they should be.

Kylo remains a few steps behind Hux, people-watching as they go. He hones in on some conversations, but none are significant to them.

“Tac Antur is approaching,” Hux whispers, “Do not _breathe_ a word.”

Inclining his head in acknowledgement and agreement, Kylo continues to scan the crowds as a Twi’lek man steps confidently up to Hux and offers his hand to shake, which Hux does. They exchange greetings and then Tac asks, “and who is your guest here?”

“This is Ben, my bodyguard,” Hux answers.

“A bodyguard?” Tac parrots, “Since when have _you_ been in need of a bodyguard?”

“It’s a formality – was insisted upon by the council. I’ve got plenty of people in this galaxy furious with me – they thought it appropriate to send me with someone who could prove useful in a fight if one were to erupt.”

“Hmm,” Tac responds, trusting Hux’s answer and forcing Kylo to meet his eyes, “And does he speak at all?”

“Not if I can help it,” Kylo replies.

Hux discreetly elbows him in the side while Tac laughs and says, “fine, very good. My apologies, Ben. Now – General, I have several questions and have been meaning to meet with you –"

“Yes, I am sure,” Hux responds, this plastic amicability plastered over him, “I am glad to answer any and all of your questions. Should we find a table?”

“If there is a table to be had, certainly,” Tac laughs again, “I have never seen such a gathering – and so many eager to meet you, General. You know, my daughter is about to go to combat training. Have anything useful I can pass along to her? She would be beside herself for wisdom from you.”

At the very mention of 'combat training,' Kylo turns rigid next to Hux; Hux’s heart rate is increasing steadily, and Kylo cannot put a comforting hand on his shoulder. It’s a little maddening to try and appear passive when what he’d like to do is take Tac by his tendrils to rip them from his idiotic head.

The air around Hux turns cold and his eyes blur a little – some twinkle in them gone. He smiles that faraway smile – that fake one that Kylo had always seen when Hux was at the bottom of some barrel and needed to kiss ass to save his life. It’s a cold smile, unfeeling – one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course,” Hux tells Tac, “I would be glad to. Warn her ahead of time, a secret tip from me – a quarter of the food presented at dinner is poisoned.”

Tac looks scandalized, “how do you mean?”

“At every dinner, a quarter of the food available is poisoned. All of the food is presented on silver trays – if the tray has a light rust around the rim, that is the dish that has been poisoned. The rust comes from exposure to the poison – it won’t do much but make her very ill. That will dehydrate her quickly, lose her the few precious hours of sleep allowed and her performance will suffer for it. The rusted tray – that is the one to avoid.”

“Why, thank you, General,” Tac exclaims, wide-eyed and somehow joyous, “I will tell her posthaste! Now – I’d like to talk to you about Starkiller –"

“Yes, I can only imagine the financial nightmare you’ve endured – let’s find a place to sit so that I might give you my undivided attention.”

Tac nods and starts looking over the crowds; on edge and clearly irritated by Tac, Hux shoots daggers at Kylo with a side glance and whispers, “what happened to not breathing a word?”

“My sincerest apologies, General,” Kylo says dispassionately with a cocked brow, “Please, continue to speak about me like a conversation piece left on your cocktail table.”

Hux is caught off guard by this.

Kylo bites the inside of his cheek.

_That was unnecessary. My apologies, Hux._

_Did I offend you?_

_No. You’ve enough to fret over. I won’t speak unless spoken to, Hux._

Tac announces he sees a couple leaving a particular table, and he moves to claim it. Hux is fixated on Kylo, though, looking at him worriedly.

_You are never a conversation piece, Ren. You are not nearly ordinary enough._

Kylo stops his staring of a couple dancing near the orchestra to look Hux in the eyes.

“You flatter me, General.”

“I never intend to,” Hux jokes.

_This Tac Antur fellow – he’s important enough to endure his asinine questions?_

_Not important. Wealthy. And frankly, I am glad to have you beside me for this. You will make this exponentially easier to endure, I am sure._

Risen hackles slightly calmed, Kylo smiles and leads Hux to the table being held by Tac.

Their budgeting conversation could not bore Kylo more – which is more than fine, as his concentration is needed elsewhere anyway. He notes the statuesque crowning along the ceilings, the diverse politicians and socialites dancing and eating, talking about success as if they know what real success is or what true success costs.

There is a human man somewhere across the hall, talking about how sweet it is that his young daughter thought General Hux was the Emperor. He is in a group of five – they all talk about how “adorable,” that is, but note more seriously that they would not be opposed to a future Emperor Hux. Someone mentions that Starkiller “marred his perfect record,” and that’s when Kylo tunes out.

He cannot understand how so much of the galaxy cannot see Starkiller for the enormous success that it was. All because it could be destroyed, as all things can.

The enormous windows allow for the guests to see the extravagant garden surrounding the mansion and the moonlight pours in, stars twinkle like studded diamonds in the sky, and despite everything, Kylo is rather happy to be at the gala with Hux. He is not one for such extravagance – it all seems like such a waste, but the lights from the ceiling make Hux’s hair all the more vibrant, and sometimes the moonlight catches just right on Hux’s face, paling his already opaque lashes and brows. It is hypnotizing.

Kylo considers running away.

He could take Hux by the arm now, run out to their travel pod, kill the pilot and take Hux away, somewhere past the Unknown Region, guard Hux until his dying day. Cherish Hux as no one else can.

He knows it’s not a real option. He knows he won’t, but he keeps thinking he might.

Maybe build that house they designed, maybe expand his illusion for Hux until it’s an entire planet with an ecosystem and weather system all its own and they can hide in it forever. He can watch Hux yawn, stretch languidly, let Hux’s hand drift through his hair as it floats in the water, protect him, dance with him, make him laugh.

 _Enough daydreaming_ , Kylo scolds himself.

A woman with light blue skin, wearing a black dress approaches the table; she has human eyes, if a little too large to be plainly human. Her white hair is tucked up and curls fall down her neck elegantly. Her black dress shimmers and glitters and drags a little behind her. She has a small black, floral hair accessory that catches a lot of light. Kylo touches at her mind and investigates quickly.

This is Chan-na Krin. She is not wealthy – her parents are. She favors Hux, has adored him for some time. Every event she sees him at, which are few and far between, she makes efforts to sleep with him. He always finds a way out and she is determined to have him in her bed this evening.

She is willing to withhold her parents’ financial support for a night with him.

She is going to blackmail him.

Kylo doesn’t think she’ll have the bravery to blackmail Hux while he is present, so he quickly decides he won’t allow them time alone.

As soon as she approaches the table, Hux stands to greet her. He bows in front of her, and Tac stands from his seat, bowing from a distance. She looks to Kylo expectantly, and when he does not bow, she asks Hux, “who is this gentleman? I don’t believe I’ve met him before.”

“I don’t see how you could have,” Hux explains, “He is my appointed bodyguard for the evening. His name is Ben, and I’m fairly certain he’d prefer to chew on live wasps than socialize, so forgive his quiet nature. He means no offense.”

_I absolutely do mean offense._

_Ren, don’t start._

_I dislike her._

_You dislike everyone._

_I don’t dislike you._

He watches the back of Hux’s neck turn red and feels validated, even strengthened by it. He fights the smile that tickles his lips, and when Hux offers Chan-na Krin his seat, she politely declines and instead asks for him to accompany her to the bar for a drink. Hux agrees to this and invites Tac, who readily stands again to follow – this invitation to Tac irritates Krin, but she is not about to show her true colors. Not yet, at least.

“And I suppose Ben will be joining us as well?”

She looks to Kylo and Hux turns to him, giving a small nod. Kylo stares at her blandly and replies, “I do not drink, and certainly not when I have precious cargo to see safely through this parade. But where General Hux goes, I am close behind.”

She resents him.

Kylo is glad for that.

As they navigate the crowds to the bar, Kylo keeps his hand low on Hux’s back. It's really a rather possessive touch of physicality, but there's no ill feelings coming from Hux that Kylo can read. In fact - Hux doesn’t say so, but his feedback indicates appreciation for the gesture.

_She is looking to hold you hostage. She wants to arrange some sort of deal with you; your sex for her parents’ money._

_She will settle for nothing else, I assume?_

_You aren’t seriously considering that, are you?_

_I don’t see how much of a choice I have in the matter. Stay close. Perhaps she’ll be too shamed to exploit me with a witness._

_My thoughts exactly._

Tac and Krin talk ceaselessly at the bar. It’s the same maddening circles Hux runs in when talking to the contractors and engineers – all well-spoken and explained as simply as possible, but still. Maddening.

Kylo picks apart guests for hours, worries about Hux consuming too much alcohol on an empty stomach, but says nothing. If he needs healing later, Kylo will happily oblige. At some point, Tac agrees to invest more than before – Hux’s confidence in his upcoming projects easily swaying the man. Krin, however, is drawing out this interaction as long as she possibly can.

Every time Kylo feels Hux’s heart rate incline, he sends something directly to Hux’s mind about one of the pompous guests. It helps to keep Hux calm and in relatively good spirits.

They gossip silently like children passing notes and Kylo is proud to know he has more of Hux’s attention than the foolish woman who thinks she’s the darling of Hux’s night.

After Hux’s third drink, Krin moves her hand onto Hux’s, giving him bedroom eyes, and Hux’s heart rate skyrockets. Before Kylo can comfort him, he senses eyes on them. He looks at Hux’s hand – it’s curled around the stem of a glass. His chest is exposed.

Someone is about to aim at Hux’s open heart.

Kylo comes between them then, watching how Krin’s hand stays steadily over Hux’s, shamelessly. He does not look at her.

“General, may I have this dance?”

Hux looks halfway amused and halfway horrified. He schools his features quickly, then nods and replies, “uhm, yes, Ben. You may.”

“My apologies,” he says to Krin without meaning, “I will be back shortly.”

He leaves his drink on the table.

Kris nods pleasantly to Hux, but as soon as Hux turns away from her, she glares dangerously at Kylo. He sends her his vitriol, not caring if she understands it's being sent through the Force or not.

He carefully escorts Hux out onto the floor and bows before him. Hux bows back and takes his gloves off, tucking them into his pants pocket. He looks at Kylo until Kylo understands Hux wants him to do the same. He does; he tucks his gloves away in one of the robes’ pockets and then they take each other’s hands and shoulders.

The issue with changing visions as foreseen – he is now working blind. He obviously deterred the original attack, but the danger is still present and very focused on Hux. Kylo is seeking the attacker out more fervently, his attention divided, but not allowing Hux to see that.

The tempo is faster than whatever played in Hux’s quarters the night before, but Kylo is more than able to keep up, and he’s glad to make Hux a much more difficult, moving target. After studying the dancers for hours, he even incorporates some spins and shifts of direction that Hux looks pleasantly surprised by.

“You’re doing marvelously.”

“I’ve had a wonderful teacher. In the past, I’ve been described as 'hopeless,' without his guidance.”

Hux rolls his eyes, smirking, heart rate declining into something more relaxed, “will you never let that go?”

“As long as it is painfully true, no,” Kylo admits, smiling at Hux as he sweeps across the glossy floor.

The moonbeams fracture through the windows and drape over Hux, giving him something like a glow.

_Your eyes are breathtaking, Hux._

Hux’s face quickly reddens – Kylo can tell the alcohol is not helping Hux control the color of his face. Kylo doesn’t mind, really. He doesn’t even focus on how endearing it is – he is so taken with Hux, so glad to have Hux in his arms, in the safety they provide. He’s so glad to know that Hux’s heart can rest when Kylo holds him close like this.

“Stop that,” Hux mutters.

_Stop what?_

“You – the teasing.”

“I’m not teasing you,” Kylo responds seriously, spinning Hux before coming back to face him, “I mean it. You are beautiful always, but particularly tonight. Particularly under the light of the moon. Should I not tell you when I think these things?”

Hux is reluctant to respond, his face red, but heart mostly at rest.

“I will apologize if I make you uncomfortable, Hux. I never mean to –"

“You are devastatingly handsome tonight, Ren.”

Kylo feels his face heat up and Hux smirks, eyes unmoving from where they’ve settled to stare admiringly at Kylo’s hair.

“And that is always true. Tonight, yes, in particular, but it is always true. I am… jealous,” Hux confesses lowly, “I do not like that so many others are having the pleasure of seeing your countenance.”

They dance in silence after that, until the song end,s and then they stand still, staring at one another.

“I never thought I would enjoy dancing,” Kylo mentions.

Hux opens his mouth to reply, but that’s when Kylo hears the click.

Everything after that happens so rapidly, it’s strange to think that their entire night was so singularly focused on what transpires in just a few moments.

“They’ve readied their weapon –" Kylo warns.

Hux’s heart starts pumping hard again, “what? Where?”

Kylo is searching the crowd, but there are too many people – he senses dangerous energy to the right and turns away from Hux. He hears the weapon fire, a few people scream and Kylo shouts, “get behind me, Hux!”

Not trusting Hux to listen to him in time, Kylo curls around him protectively, the blaster fire scathing his side. He seethes and only catches a glimpse of Hux’s pale face before he twists around and when the weapon fires again, he freezes the blast midair. He leaves his arm extended like that, the entire population of the gala filling the mansion with a sense of dread and horror.

It is a woman – human, tan and with eyes full of rage.

Her eyes are set on Hux – she has a personal vendetta. Someone or many people she cared about were in the Hosnian system when Hux gave the order to have it obliterated.

She fires again and Kylo extends his other hand, his tall, intimidating form heaving from the pain in his side, widening his stance to further protect Hux.

He freezes the other blast and senses the guards from the gate of the mansion rushing to the building.

They won’t be fast enough.

_In a count of five, from the moment I finish this directive, I need you to run as fast as you can to the bar. Hide behind it and do not move an inch until I have reached you. Now._

Five beats and then Hux moves and the woman fires again – with Hux moving in another direction, Kylo ducks and lets go of his Force hold on the blasts, allowing them to destroy a pillar and crush a table.

People are scattering and screaming.

Kylo raises a single hand, veering her other blast off-course, allowing Hux to get behind the bar safely. When she glares at him, Kylo reaches out and summons the blaster from her, crushing it with a force invisible to the untrained eye. He moves his focus back to her, and Force chokes her high up into the air.

She gasps and grabs uselessly at a hand that is not really there, her legs kicking out.

Too concerned that Hux may have been hurt, he decides he does not want to wait for her to die slowly here. He steals her consciousness from her and allows her to fall twelve feet to the ground, a crumpled, sleeping mass.

The room is still chaotic as Kylo runs to the bar and jumps over it.

At the same time, Hux and Kylo both exclaim;

“Hux, are you okay?”

“You’re bleeding, Kylo!”

They look at each other in worry – Kylo touches at the blood splatter on Hux’s white uniform jacket, feeling at his sides and chest to make sure he is truly unharmed.

“It’s _your blood_ , you fool! I’m fine!”

Kylo quirks a smile at him and says, “I told you. Did I not tell you I would protect you? There was never reason to –”

Hux’s eyes are glowing and open, shining in a way Kylo has never before seen. He looks at a loss for words. At such a loss it seems, Hux springs from his kneeling position and throws himself onto Kylo, wrapping his arms around him, one hand twining in Kylo’s hair and the other slithering under Kylo’s arm to hold his back and clutch at his shoulder.

He tucks his face into the crook of Kylo’s neck. He breathes in deeply, his nose and lips dragging against Kylo’s neck and jaw.

“Please, tell me you aren’t seriously wounded.”

“I am not,” Kylo replies nervously, unused to being held, “I swear, I’m – the blast just grazed me.”

Hux mutters something about him being an idiot, that grazed or not, he’s hurt and it’s somehow his fault and Kylo doesn’t really hear the rest of what’s spoken against his skin.

He tries to remember last being held.

All he can remember is how badly Leia wanted him to come to her arms; touch him one last time before he left her indefinitely to train as a Jedi.

He didn’t let her, though.

He can’t remember.

He can’t remember the last time someone held him, and so his arms are shaking and awkward when they come around Hux.

When Hux feels Kylo’s arms curl around him, he holds on tighter, buries his face deeper into Kylo’s neck. So, Kylo holds him tightly back.

“You’re okay, Hux – I promise, it’s over – you’re okay –"

“I know,” Hux responds, “I… that’s not what… I know I’m okay. That’s not what I’m fearful of.”

If Hux is admitting to having been frightened of anything at all, he must be in a state. Kylo moves one hand to cradle the back of Hux’s head, encouraging the intimacy of being so close to him. Encouraging Hux to worry over him. His side is in burning pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to care if he tried.

He threads his fingers through Hux’s hair, turns his face to the crown of Hux’s head, and breathes in deeply. He swallows roughly, heat behind his eyes – he blames it on the adrenaline.

“Hux,” he says.

He puts his lips against Hux’s temple and says all he can think to say.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful fucking incredible lovely art gifted to me by the incredible and wonderful @singersalvageart


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is where the Explicit warnings come into play. Seriously, some of the imagery described is gruesome and gory. Specific triggers: an amputation is described and Hux's ability to totally detach from emotion in a disturbing way is illustrated in detail. Please read carefully!

Kylo was right to be concerned about Hux drinking on an empty stomach. He wasn’t sick at all on the way out or back to _Aurora_ – but his judgment was impaired. He seemed off and it was obvious – his orders were a little slurred, his stride just a little less sure. All his Stoicism and composure had left him and he seemed too tired to even be bothered by himself.

Once Hux let go of Kylo at the gala, Kylo apprehended the would-be assassin and, with their pilot at the ready, they both left on the same pod they arrived in with their hostage – watching people flying off planet in panicked flocks.

Boarding _Aurora_ again was unsettling, however – Haas was at the control bridge, standing next to Captain Phasma in what seemed to be friendly conversation.

That had to be a bad omen.

Kylo decided then that he would warn Phasma the next meal he had with her what Haas is truly like. That he felt nothing but want, and wanted only for power, and particularly power over General Hux.

His want was actually rather focused on General Hux - power was enticing to Haas, but not so nearly as Hux. 

But that was irrelevant.

Kylo wouldn’t mention that part.

It didn't matter.

Right?

It didn't matter.

“Who is she?” Phasma asked as troopers took the hostage from the pod.

“No idea yet,” Kylo replied, leaning a bit of his weight onto Hux, his side still bleeding.

“Must be rebel scum,” Hux had seethed, “Phasma – ready an interrogation room and warn the med bay we are on our way. His side has been wounded again.”

“Bad habit to pick up, Lord Kylo Ren,” Phasma chastised, “Really – you should at least allow the side to fully heal before going out of your way to have it punctured again.”

“Right,” Kylo responded drily, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Despite quiet objections, Hux then spent the next half hour sending a single nurse and two medic droids into panics with his frustration with their “incompetence,” which was flattering in a way. They were certainly competent; Hux was just allowing his Stoicism to fall away and his concern to show. Kylo could sense that Hux only wanted for Kylo to be healed immediately and if the results weren’t instantaneous, he started shouting. It was actually kind of - for lack of a better word - cute.

After a while, the General lost his patience altogether, shoved the nurse aside, telling her that was “no way to sanitize a wound – where exactly did you get your schooling? Behind some dive bar in the Midrim? Couldn’t be, clearly – you probably would’ve learned more there than wherever you learned to dress lesions. Now get out of my way.”

The med bay was a strange environment suddenly – so little time before, they were at a gala, rotating around the ballroom like some married nobility and now, Kylo’s robes are torn and soiled, his side bleeding still and Hux’s once perfect uniform splattered with the red of his rescue.

When Kylo woke in the med bay after Starkiller, it felt right. It felt right to be in pain, to be wrapped up, reeking of bacta gel, so angry with the universe that all he could focus on was teasing Hux to keep himself from destroying everything and everyone around him.

Now, though, it felt wrong.

His older wounds from Starkiller are mostly healed, pinkish and just, scarred elevated skin. This wound to his side is not exactly a small matter, but it isn’t so deep and Kylo is so distracted with the red on Hux’s uniform.

He’s not angry with the universe.

He’s angry with himself.

To have bled on Hux.

What sort of absurd way of thinking is that?

Once the bandages are tightly wound around his side, he looks to Hux, his eyes showing just a small bit of fatigue, his body tense but tired too. His hands shaking.

“Beautiful job you’ve done there,” Kylo compliments, unsure of what else to say; concerned about Hux’s shaking hands.

Hux smirks, patting down on the pad soaking up any blood still seeping from the cut through Kylo’s waist.

“Impressed, are you? You should see my work with a tourniquet.”

It’s not really a joke.

“You’ve had to make a tourniquet before?”

“Certainly,” Hux replies, sitting back on one of the rolling chairs nearby, “People died in combat training. My class started with two-hundred and thirty-five and only one-hundred and twenty were left alive to graduate. Only one-hundred of those alive actually did.”

“Were you able to rescue whoever was wounded?” Kylo asks curiously, sitting up and testing out weight distribution on his side, “With your tourniquet?”

“In a sense, yes, but he was fairly useless afterward,” Hux says, restlessly standing up again to go to one of the sinks, “One functional leg does that to a boy, I suppose.”

“He lost his leg?”

“Certainly did,” Hux answers, scrubbing at his hands, the cuffs of his sleeves getting damp – everything is red and sort of muddy, “After the final written exam at combat training, the class is split into two squadrons with two respective squadron leaders. I was one of them, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Kylo remarks with a smile wanting to take form – it doesn’t.

“The two squadrons are released into these artificial woods as a final physical exam, pass or fail, live or die – the woods are all rigged with explosives, booby-traps and each squadron has a set amount of rations. The test is called The Culling and, if you do it correctly, it lasts three nights and four days.”

“And if you do it incorrectly?”

“Well, they’ve got trackers on everyone that goes in, so they know how many die off and when. The trackers pick up audio too – it allows the proctors to generate spontaneous disasters, meant to test the flexibility of the troops. If you go in the woods and don’t come out after four days, odds are you’re dead or severely wounded. Or you got lost or couldn’t overcome one of the challenges, in which case you’ve failed anyway, so if you are alive, you’ll have to start the combat training program all over again. You go in a squadron, and you’re meant to exit as a squadron – no single man should be left behind, but it has happened before.”

This is the most Hux has ever spoken about combat training without dissociating to some degree. Kylo wonders if the alcohol is of any help – or if, perhaps, the necessity to see after Kylo’s wounds is keeping him grounded.

“So, what happened to this boy?” Kylo asks, absently toying with his bandages.

“Idiotic, really,” Hux huffs indignantly, “It was such an obvious place to put a tripwire – he was so insistent on walking next to me and in front of me, resentful to be second in class. He insisted that he was an 'equal leader,' to me, but while he stepped ahead of me, he triggered the tripwire and out came a blade from the body of a tree. It came swinging out, struck him maybe four inches below the knee, but only cut halfway through the flesh –"

Kylo receives images then, ones he knows he probably shouldn’t be getting; Hux’s mind is impaired by the alcohol, his guards are lowered and his feedback is strong.

_The trees are tall and dark – the mock “squadron,” was released at night and this planet only has one moon, which is new this night – everything is dark._

_Hux’s mind is like a serrated knife, all deadly, sharp, even jarring focus on survival. He doesn’t care about these people emotionally – he doesn’t really worry whether or not they’re alive or dead, but for his objective to be completed. He wants them all to get through The Culling. He wants to be credited for keeping them alive. They are not people, though – just bodies, just numbers. His apathy is a yawning void._

_There’s a boy next to Hux, mouthing off – wanting the glory he knows Hux will have at the end of this. Ignoring him, Hux steps over roots and warns the troop behind him that there’s a steep decline he just stepped over, to make sure they prepare for it in the dark so as not to fall. He seems polite enough, courteous enough, but fear still sits in the eyes of his classmates, even as they thank him and step down carefully._

_His mind is cataloguing traps, red herring, and trails, like a computer as he passes them. He sees a glint of silver on the ground – a wire – the boy next to him steps ahead of him again, wanting to face him, insisting he should have been given the chance to lead – wanting to make eye-contact with Hux._

_Hux opens his mouth to warn the boy, but it’s too late._

_The blade is out almost instantaneously, lodged halfway through his upper calf._

_He screams, small black birds flutter out of the trees in a panic at his hideous cry, and all Hux can think of is how annoying it all is._

“Destroyed the bone,” Hux continues, unaware that his memories are pressing up against Kylo’s mind, “There was no rescuing the leg – particularly since it happened on the first night.”

“The poor fool couldn’t make it through even the first night?”

Hux gives a half-smile half-sneer to show his shared sense of disdain.

“No, he couldn't, and of course _I_ was left to fix the bloody mess,” Hux explains resentfully, looking down at his hands in the water that’s now hot enough to turn his skin pink and raise steam, “Had to lie him down and have four other cadets hold his limbs down –"

_“No – no, just take it out – just take it out and it will –"_

_“What?” Hux asks the boy in a snap, “Magically bind together again? You do realize the blade’s made it partially through your tibia, right? The tibia is nearly cut in half. To heal it would require immediate medical attention, which you won’t be getting. So, if you’d like, I can leave you here to bleed out, or you can shut your eyes, bite your tongue, and let me do what must be done.”_

_“But **my leg**!” the boy screams – his panic is upsetting several of the other cadets, “I can’t just – you’re asking me to be okay with you hacking off my fucking leg! Turn us around! Get me back to the base!”_

_“If we go back to the base, we fail!” Hux exclaims._

_The boy looks at Hux, bewildered, “ **and**!? I don’t care if I have to repeat the program or fail this stupid Culling! It’s my **fucking leg** , you sociopath!”_

_“I am not **failing** The Culling because of your **ignorance** and inability to follow orders,” Hux declares crossly, “The leg is coming off.”_

_The boy keeps screaming and objecting as Hux stands up and randomly assigns four of his troops to hold down the boy’s flailing limbs. His classmates fear him more with every passing second – they listen without hesitation._

_The blade is removed with loud cries from the victim, and then placed delicately near the tree from where it sprang – Hux warns everyone where it is and shines his light onto the wire so they all see what the boy tripped over._

_The same boy who is sobbing now, screaming, and making attempts at thrashing._

_Hux feels nothing._

“There was nothing in our packs to numb pain, so I just made it at as quick as possible,” Hux says blandly, “There was an axe for chopping wood to make fires and, while I admit it to be a bit barbaric, it seemed the most sensible solution, so, I used that –"

_Hux’s arms, smaller and thinner at the time, rise up with the axe – almost everyone looks away as it comes down._

_His aim is perfect, aligning precisely with where the blade punctured. He’s proud of this, but was confident in his ability anyway. He’s grown used to being the only one to appreciate his perfection._

_The resulting bodily fluids and sounds seem to echo and stretch further into the woods than they reasonably ought to._

_A few people get sick at the stench and sounds, all of them look uncomfortable to some degree, and Hux feels blood splatter on his face._

_He doesn’t really care._

_“Someone – give me your jacket. I’ll need two. Whoever is carrying the med bag, get out a pad and some binding.”_

_He unclips his belt and slides it out of its loops, staring down at the sobbing boy. Feeling less than nothing._

_His makeshift tourniquet works, as he knew it would. The boy is exhausted, pale and sickly by the end of it all – Hux kneels down next to the boy’s devastated face and asks him if he’d like for Hux to pack the calf and take it with them, so that he might see it again, or if he’d prefer to leave it in the woods._

_The boy only cries in response, voice gone, words lost._

_“It’s good, I think,” Hux tells the boy quietly, personally, “to know and accept your place. Keeps your wits about you – keeps your legs on, too, I suppose. I lead. You follow. It could have been simple.”_

_The boy is so beside himself with grief and pain and horror, Hux’s words only make him cry louder._

_Hux stands, takes an embroidered handkerchief from his uniform pant pocket and wipes away the blood from his face._

“We had him bite down on some bark, shut his eyes and I just – did what had to be done.”

 _Interesting_ , Kylo thinks to himself, _Same choice of words he used to describe killing his brother._

Hux finally shuts the water off, leaning over the basin. His hands look like they might be in pain, raw and sensitive. Steam is still moving up from the basin and loosening some of Hux’s hair.

“I used my uniform belt to secure the padding, which was improvised by a small supply of real bandaging and two donated uniform jackets. I gave the order for everyone to help him along and they took turns, hefting his right side through the woods until we all made it through.”

“And what became of him?”

_There’s a green clearing – an enormous campus beyond it. There are teachers and drill instructors waiting, watching as Hux leads his squadron out into the sunlight._

_Three wounded, only the first boy would die, though._

_Hux knows this as they touch the grass._

_“I know I was an ass,” the boy mutters, still looking straight ahead, “but thank you. I’m glad I saw this through somehow. I’m glad we didn’t go back. I still have my pride because of you. Thank you for saving my life.”_

_The boy is holding onto Hux’s shoulders, allowing Hux to help him limp out into the clearing – medical droids come whirring towards them._

_Hux can feel the boy’s fever, though. Sees just by the pallid look of his skin that he won’t last much longer – even with the finest treatment, it will be a miracle if he survives._

_And Hux has never believed in miracles._

“Hmm?” Hux asks, as if distracted from a thought, “Oh, he died in the med bay two days after we completed The Culling. Blood infection from the haphazard amputation and improper cleanings by his own hand.”

Kylo nods and wonders about this boy – even Hux’s memories of him are foggy. His face is blurry, his hair is dark, but nothing about the memories of him are defined. More terrible things happened in the woods – stories worse than that, Kylo can sense it.

He wonders why Hux chooses the people and events he does, to care about.

Hux clearly didn’t care for this fellow – he sincerely can’t remember the boy’s name. Can barely remember his face.

The faulty memory could be blamed on operating in a survival situation – memory being fully focused on only the things most important in keeping him and his troops alive. Partially, that may be true, but it seems to Kylo that Hux has lived most of his life this way.

The few glimpses Kylo has seen of Hux’s childhood – the fast passing visions of Hux begging not to be made to kill his brother, the slow, highly detailed memory of Hux’s mother and her parting words – it all implies that Hux dedicates certain things to memory. Even his drawings – he obviously doesn’t draw while out on the bridge, but still, he captures Mitaka’s likeness with excellence. He knows how the lights move around Phasma’s helmet without needing her to be before him, he clearly remembers every detail of his brother’s face when more than a decade has passed since last he saw it.

Kylo swallows, feeling wrong-footed, but wanting to know.

He keeps himself from looking small – Hux would see it as patronizing. He does speak softly, though, when he bravely asks, “is this the memory that causes you such pain to recount combat training?”

He watches Hux’s shoulders stiffen up to his ears, but his neck doesn’t turn red. Everything about him looks paler, actually. Like just mentioning it, just thinking about it, will turn him into a phantom.

“No,” Hux answers, his tone indecipherable, “I didn’t care about that boy – I didn’t care about any of them. Even now, I can’t recall his name. He was so grateful to me for saving his life at the end… rather, I granted him six days and five nights of a sluggish, fevered death – absolute torture with no alleviation from the pain but for nightmare-addled sleep. During The Culling, he didn’t sleep until the last night in the woods. I think he knew – I think he knew then that even when we stepped out into the clear the next day, he would die soon.”

“You won’t tell me, will you?”

Hux turns around, his eyes blank and face neutral.

“Tell you what?”

“What happened at combat training.”

“You honestly want to hear more horror stories like that?”

“A quarter of the food is poisoned, children being pitted against one another to the death, forced to overcome impossible odds with little to no supplies – yes, it sounds like a horror, but something more than a horror happened. And it happened to you.”

The glimmer in Hux’s eyes shifts, like he might transform into another person. It’s unnerving – less so than when he leaves his eyes completely, but not so far off.

“I think that whatever happened is what made you want to kill yourself. And you keep this all from me – you keep yourself a secret still. You will let me in your space, you let me touch you, fight you, defend you, learn from you – you are strategic to the very end. And I might wish someday for you to stop strategizing around me.”

Hux’s brow furrows as Kylo stands, holding his bandaged side, “you once admitted to me that your entire personality is strategized. I haven’t forgotten. I keep thinking that at some point, you’ll stop seeing me as some… other player in a game looking for an opening. I’m not looking for intel on you. I am trying to be close to you – in a way no one else ever has or will be again.”

“To leave me?” Hux asks, anger rising, “Just to leave? Yes – you wanted me to trust you like I had no other, you wanted to be – be – be whatever the Hells you thought I…”

He stops, holding the center of his chest and looking down.

Kylo can sense Hux’s heart beating hard – that empty stomach and blood laced with strong alcohol isn’t helping him.

 _Now is not the time for this_ , Kylo thinks to himself, _I should let him rest. This cycle has been unforgiving toward him. I’m only going to make it worse._

Ready to put the issue aside for the time, Kylo opens his mouth to suggest Hux get some rest, but he’s interrupted.

“I trust you to disappoint.”

In the resounding silence, Kylo swears he hears his own heart splinter.

“I trust you to throw me to the wayside as soon as Supreme Leader Snoke tells you to. In fact, I trust you to _kill me_ the moment he decides he doesn’t care much for me anymore. I trust you to fail, and to fail spectacularly because of your childish rage, to be unable to mind my privacy, control yourself or your powers, and I trust you to leave.”

Hux looks up at him again.

They stare silently at each other for a while. Hux’s uniform is gold, white and muddy red. His cuffs are damp and darker, his hair is a little mussed and he looks like he’s lived a thousand standard years in a single night.

“This is what I have known, Ren,” Hux expounds, “You will leave as everyone leaves. So, what does it matter? What does it matter what was done to me at combat training? What does it matter that I was forced to kill my brother? What does it matter that I never heard from my mother again? What does it matter? You’re leaving. And that’s all I can really trust. That’s all I trust of anyone.”

There’s a pause and Hux adds quietly, “that’s the only consistency I’ve found. It’s the only truth there is. You’ll leave, like you were meant to, and it won’t matter – what I’ve said or haven’t said. And when I leave in death, those stories won’t matter then either - I'll be remembered for a while and then forgotten and that won't matter at all either. Oblivion is there, at the end, and I welcome it – finally allowing me to reach my peak of meaninglessness.”

 _Congratulations, you’ve given him an existential crisis_ , Kylo bites sarcastically in his own head, _Fix it._

“You’re making little sense now, Hux,” Kylo says, approaching Hux stiltedly, “I… I don’t know if you mean what you say. Your mind is muddled by the alcohol, the adrenaline crash and a sense of dread – which I could take from you if you so desired, but I sense you don’t really want me so near right now. You should rest. I’ll help you to your quarters.”

The light in Hux’s eyes shifts again, and in a more professional tone, he states simply, “I’ll be on the observation deck. Interrogate the hostage – if she’s a rebel, bleed what information you can from her. When she is no longer useful, come to me, and I will decide what to do with her.”

Feeling unsure, but helpless to do anything else, Kylo nods in agreement and watches Hux leave with his hands still shaking.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of Part One!! And I know y'all are probably seething mad about the UST. I promise, Part Two will satisfy your needs. First, though, I'd really like to thank those of you that consistently left really encouraging comments and reviews all throughout Part One. So, thank you, thank you, thank you: FemaleSpock, Confuzzled-Neko, MsModernity, sunlightonwater (TFA_finn_poe_shipper), EnderWiggin24, starlitexdecay, mocaccino, WinterfellsDaughter, oimarvel, nosseka, RubyQuinn, bloodandpepper, GingerSnappish, minzimpression, wrmhle, Seythia, Keeblo, scarlet_tongue and Mavani! You all kept me so motivated, left thoughtful, helpful reviews and y'all are stellar and I can't thank you enough.
> 
> I hope I see y'all for Part Two (which chapter one for will probably by up during this weekend or next week ;D)
> 
> A particular trigger warning for this chapter is that Hux is very, very, very drunk and while nothing extreme happens, a lot of his interaction with Kylo can be construed as dub-con. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the closer for Part One! <3

The woman was a rebel once.

She lived on a base mostly for safety – she had been pregnant once, thought her family needed protection, but the rebel pilot she was married to was killed in action. She lost the pregnancy in her lamenting. She was rather frightened that she would lose all of her security once without a husband and child, but the Rebellion continued to house, feed, and care for her like a stray.

After the destruction of the Hosnian system, she became ill with grief, having lost most of her family. She was offered treatment and comforts, but what she wanted was vengeance. Her mind is littered with violent fantasies in which she disembowels, beheads, tortures and utterly destroys General Hux a thousand different ways.

Kylo did not hesitate to tell her that she never would have succeeded. She was no soldier and hardly a spy. Hux would have torn her to pieces before she could land a single blow. He told her that her pipe dreams of vengeance were just that – silly dreams - she never stood a chance. She didn’t seem to care too much for that truth.

Through her memories, Kylo learned that she left the Rebellion of her own accord when they refused to mindlessly hunt down and attack General Hux for the sake of her vengeance. Through several aliases and well placed lies, she got herself a cover and invitation to the gala, where she knew Hux’s investors were – it was purely guess work that after the destruction of Starkiller, Hux would be there to either save face or secure more funding.

She is small-pickings, as it turns out. No useful information about the Rebellion or their future movements, and no insider-knowledge.

Checking every crevasse of her mind for hidden information takes time, however, and many standard hours pass before Kylo goes to the observation deck to inform Hux that she’s a dead end. He wonders what Hux will do with her.

While he’s walking down the corridor, half-undressed, his lower half in slightly bloodied, black pants, and gold and black boots, he happens to find Nali, Jardom and Haas – the air is tense. When he finds them, he realizes his appearance has halted an argument.

Nali looks up at Kylo while Haas and Jardom glare at each other – Haas has his hand worryingly close to the taser he keeps clipped to his belt and Jardom looks as though he's biting his tongue.

“Lord Kylo Ren! I am so glad to see you,” she announces, walking between the two young men to see Kylo up close, “We heard all about the gala! We all heard how you dove in the way of blaster fire to protect General Hux! You are truly a hero, Lord Kylo Ren.”

Jardom looks to Kylo too, noting the wrappings around his waist, and he clears his throat before agreeing, “yes – truly, Nali and I are beginning to think there are no hands safer for the General than your own.”

“What are you even talking about?” Haas sneers; he’s a little wild-eyed – tired from picking apart the hostage’s mind, Kylo can’t find just what it was, but Jardom said something to him that jarred Haas, upset him, and he’s cagey now. Perhaps dangerous.

He’s as dangerous as a blonde-haired bug stuck to the bottom of Hux’s boot can be, anyway.

“General Hux has never needed protecting!” Haas exclaims, “This is all absurd! Kylo Ren did nothing but wreak havoc at a gala, where I am positive the General could have protected himself – and much more subtly!”

“You all passed The Culling?”

All three heads twist to Kylo – it is strange to look upon them this sleep cycle. Younger, rounder faces and eyes with more lights in them than Kylo ever remembers having in his own. But they are haunted eyes. Jardom with his dark skin and strong build, Haas with his thin form, blonde hair and mismatched eyes, and Nali, shaded eminence and magenta, no white in her eyes – just pink, once lively, now looking ghostly.

The three of them so obviously from different walks of life, all survived some Hell Kylo has yet to fully understand.

Typically, to these Hells, there is a formula. A particular personality type that survives the tests, that’s willing to move on after what they do to make it out alive. There’s usually some shared trait among the survivors of similar paths, but Haas, Jardom, and Nali are visibly, and inwardly, so different, Kylo cannot spot what remains. He cannot see what binds them all together – how it is possible that all of them, so different from one another, all had the tools to survive.

Haas has appropriate tools – strategic, analytical, wary, unsympathetic, unapologetic, willing to sacrifice others to further himself or his cause, with passing strength, and fair agility.

That is a toolbox befitting of someone to survive and flourish after something like The Culling. Jardom and Nali, though – all the other officers too – these new recruits, they’re all so different from one another. And even those with strong personalities like Nali and Jardom, their personalities may be strong, but they are entirely unlike Haas’s.

Was it chance, then? Did Jardom follow orders from his squadron leader and stay toward the middle of the herd to avoid danger? Was he frightened? Did he feel regret? Hesitance? Did he allow others to act as human shields? Did his quiet demeanor and shyness keep him alive?

And Nali – what of her? Did she dare herself, push herself to complete The Culling with gusto and pride? Was she unbalanced, uncertain? Was she full of rage? Did she deserve to be squadron leader and wind up pushed aside as she had been her entire life? Did she save as many as she could? Did it pain her to see her classmates hurt?

When Nali, Haas, and Jardom stepped out into the clearing, did they carry bodies like Hux? Were they overwhelmed with relief? Or were they outdone by their shame?

When they stepped into the clearing, were they the same Nali, Jardom, and Haas that first entered the woods?

He wonders what they all saw – how many of their comrades died, or were horrendously injured. He wonders if they leave their eyes too, when asked about combat training.

“Y-yes, of course,” Nali eventually answers, “To graduate from the Academy, it is required.”

Kylo looks between all of them, his eyes landing on Haas, who is staring into the middle distance, still unhinged. Kylo recalls first laying eyes on Haas. How Haas had preened under Hux’s attention.

_“Sir, I graduated top of my class and squadron leader. My superiors have told me that I have natural leadership skills; aside from being an expert sharpshooter, my greatest abilities lie in battle strategy, piloting and technological engineering. If none of these skills are useful to you, I will acquire or become whatever I can to be of service to you.”_

“Naos Haas – you were a squadron leader during The Culling,” Kylo states more than asks.

Haas struggles to move his eyes towards Kylo’s face. Once he does, he nods. It’s rigid.

“I’m sure you know already, but General Hux was a squadron leader too.”

Kylo isn’t sure why he’s saying this.

He isn’t precisely looking to comfort Haas – no, he still despises the boy.

Perhaps Kylo is just seeing now what Hux meant when he said he saw himself in Haas – it was not the cockiness, the arrogance, the ease in betraying allies for more power. It wasn’t in Haas’s poise, attitude, or desire to perform.

Hux saw the ghosts in Haas’s unmatched eyes where Kylo did not know where to look for them.

He sees them now, though.

“Yes, I know,” Haas replies, “It was an honor and personal goal, to follow in his footsteps.”

“What did it cost you?”

All of them seem to harden like statues – Nali has two hearts, both are pounding at erratic beats. Jardom sees she is unnerved and wishes to comfort her, but cannot bring himself to move. Haas seems befuddled.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean this in sarcasm,” Kylo explains, “I honestly want to know. Hux has told me very little about his time at the Academy, even less about his time in combat training. The only memory of substance he offered me about his training was The Culling. It would appear to me that some part of him may have been left behind in those woods. There is a price to pay for acts you were made to perform – I know this all too well from my own training. I want to know what part of you was left in the woods on that fourth day.”

Kylo takes a step closer to Haas, watching the shimmer leave his eyes, “when you stepped into the clearing, what part of yourself did you leave behind, Naos Haas?”

“Lord Kylo Ren – that is enough.”

Kylo looks to Nali in surprise. She seems unsteady, unsure, but more than anything, she is openly upset. Her eyes are glassy and Kylo is instantly regretful.

“Haas… Haas did everything he could," Nali defends, "He did everything he could… whatever anger you feel for him – to recount his time in The Culling is not worth it. He… “

Nali looks to Jardom for some sort of back up, but then she thinks loudly, _no – he won’t understand. He wasn’t in our squadron. He wasn't there._

She turns her head to Haas who refuses to look at her.

“He just… he did everything he could,” she repeats, unable to conjure any other useful words.

Haas glances down at the floor, then mumbles, “I’m meant to fetch General Hux more whiskey. If I’m not on the deck shortly, he will wonder where I’ve gotten to.”

“ _More_?” Kylo specifies, “How much has he already had?”

“Too much,” Jardom interjects decisively.

He looks at Kylo meaningfully.

Perhaps this was what they were arguing about before Kylo appeared. He doesn’t have the strength to read all of their respective energies to confirm that.

“The General decides when he’s had enough, Gillash,” Haas hisses, his brazen and fanatic energy back like a lit flame, “And he trusts me – I would not leave him now.”

“You will, though,” Kylo tells him.

Haas takes his eyes off Jardom to direct them threateningly at Kylo.

“Oh, will I?”

“It was decided upon many cycles ago that I would be General Hux’s bodyguard and caretaker this night. I will fetch him before he’s ill – he hasn’t had anything to eat in more than twenty hours. He doesn’t need more whiskey. He needs rest.”

Ready to argue this point, Haas opens his mouth, but Kylo stops him, “and you three need rest as well. Go to your rooms – and without any violence against one another. We’re on the same side – end this foolishness.”

“Yes, Lord Kylo Ren,” Nali readily answers for them all, bowing slightly.

Jardom mimics her, and while Haas is hesitant to take any command from Kylo, the lines under his eyes are deep, and he’s still shaken. His blood is running cold.

Kylo has met many men like Haas before – men who take, crushing anyone on their way to the top without care, men who feel entitled to land, prestige, recognition, and even feel entitled to other people – men who strike out of fear, men so sure of themselves, they will kill themselves with their pride.

With vigor, Kylo still hates Haas, but if Nali is granting him clemency this night, Kylo is willing to trust her judgment.

“Go, Naos Haas. To be frank, the General is unlikely to remember your servitude in the next cycle anyway. Save us both time and energy, and do not fight me on this. Reserve your strength for greater battles.”

In frustrated silence, Haas admits defeat and leaves down a corridor, separate from the one Nali and Jardom take.

Kylo wonders if this was all part of Hux’s plan.

He wonders if the part of Haas that was left in the woods during The Culling is the only part of him Kylo may have liked or respected.

And what a pity that is.

Kylo makes it to the observation deck, his mind exhausted, feeling stretched like elastic and his body sore like a bruise. Hux is on the floor, sitting down in front of the viewport and Phasma gives him parting words when she spots Kylo, leaving Hux’s side to confront him.

As she approaches him, she whispers, “he will not take orders right now. Get him to bed before he makes a show of himself. Just do it in a way that makes it feel like it was his idea or he won't be moved.”

'Childish,' is the first word that comes to mind when she says that to him.

That’s the type of trick you play on a child to get them to go to bed. Hux is no child. Kylo will reason with him. Somehow. He nods to her anyway.

As Phasma is walking away, he calls to her and asks, “wait – you know I… you know how I never finished primary schooling. Forgive my ignorance, but… what is a culling?”

“You mean the word, or the exam?”

“The word.”

“As I have heard it used and seen it read, there are two uses for it that I know of. One, to reduce a population – usually of wild animals – by selective hunting, or to send an inferior bunch or a simple surplus of animals to slaughter.”

“Did you know that?” Kylo asks, his throat starting to feel dry and overused, “When you went into the woods that day?”

He cannot see her expression through her helmet and he is too weak at the moment to extend himself into her mind and see if he has offended her. He gets the feeling anyway she understands.

A few moments pass, but she eventually answers, “yes, I did.”

Kylo looks out onto the observation deck, at the few officers sitting at control panels, Hux’s hunched silhouette against the stars. Kylo isn’t sure what emotion he is feeling now – it is strong but smothered by his exhaustion. Whatever it is, it drives him to desire Hux’s laughter.

He would like to be back in the ballroom, under glittering lights, surrounded by light colors, and feeling Hux’s pride when he said, _“you’re doing marvelously.”_

“He did too.”

Kylo glances back at Phasma, still unreadable behind her helmet. He nods to her and she wishes him a goodnight, her cape billowing behind her as she strides down toward her corridor.

Kylo approaches Hux, standing there by his side for a while until deciding he is too tired to stand anymore, and he sits next to Hux, looking at a particular far away cluster of stars. He gets a side-glance at Hux – he’s a mess; his hair is mussed, his face is pale and tired, his body lacking all it’s usual posture and poise. It’s unsettling.

“Good work with the – no bucket. No bucket. Good. Good. You know I hate it. I don’t like it. I don’t like your –"

“Yes, I know,” Kylo interrupts, “You dislike my mask. Is it that you dislike my mask, or that you very much like my face?”

“Yes.”

Kylo breathes a little laugh through his nose, smirking shortly. He tilts his head to the side, and asks, “any particular reason you’re staring out there? Something caught your eye? A planet, maybe? A moon? A star? Whatever it is, I’ll fetch it for you now if you’d like.”

“A star?” Hux asks, turning to face Kylo – his eyes are drowsy and a little unfocused, but he’s present enough, not slurring like a slob, but he certainly shouldn’t be out in front of his officers in this condition, “you’d get me a star, Ren? If I asked? If I asked you for a star, you’d just – you’d just walk on out of here and get it for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“ _Pfft_ ,” Hux starts ineloquently, “That’s absurd. You say things that are – you are, actually… really, though?”

“Yes, really.”

“What a romantic gesture.”

Kylo feels his face heat up and his heart thuds. He looks at Hux, worried Hux has more of his wits than he’s letting on. Another look at him proves otherwise, though. He’s drunk – very drunk – and just saying things without filtering.

And an uncensored General Hux sounds like something very dangerous.

Phasma is right – Kylo needs to get Hux to the privacy of his quarters.

“Stars are golden.”

“Yes,” Kylo replies, “Yes, they often are – how about we go admire them from your viewport, Hux? You can get out of those dirty clothes, wash off the grime of the day, and settle into bed, and if you think of a star you’d like, you let me know.”

“I almost – I almost died today.”

“Well, not really,” Kylo offers conversationally, “ _I_ was there. And Death will need to do away with me first if it’s got any plan for taking you. What have I been telling you?”

“I needn’t fear any beast while you’re beside me.”

Warmed, Kylo smiles weakly at him, “that’s right. You know, I was sure you’d be an unpleasant drunk – an angry drunk, even, but you’re rather amicable.”

“Drunk Hux thanks you.”

Kylo cocks a brow, “Drunk Hux?”

“Drunk Hux makes bad decisions. Decisions I would never make. And he’s me, but not me? If I get drunk enough, I become Drunk Hux. Drunk Hux is an asshole.”

Kylo smirks again, tempted to inform him that Sober Hux is an asshole as well, but he fights the urge and instead says, “is that so? He seems pleasant enough to me.”

“First of all, you’re pretty – Drunk Hux is nicer to pretty people, but that’s not what makes him an asshole – he’s just – like – this one time, I woke up after too much drinking and there was a glass of water on the bedside table and two painkillers, which was so thoughtful," Hux tells him, his intonations going high and low all over the place, "I was so thankful, I was like – I was thinking – I said, ‘thank you, Drunk Hux, that was very thoughtful,’ and I took the pills, and then took a long swig of the water, but the water was not water, the water was vodka, and he _knew_ – he _totally_ knew I was going to think it was water, and take a big gulp of it when waking up. Isn’t that awful? Isn't that an awful thing to do? He’s awful. He talks too much as well. This is too much talking. I can already tell. I don’t talk this much. My tongue feels sort of numb. And my lips are tingly.”

“Remember that bit about showering, and getting into comfortable clothes? Remember, about the viewport in your room?” Kylo prompts.

“Right, yes, there was a plan – right, must stick to the schedule.”

Hux goes to stand, and stumbles, but Kylo catches him in time. A few of the officers pick up their heads in worry, but once they see Kylo has the situation in hand, they seem to plainly go back to work without a fuss.

The half-walk, half-stagger to Hux’s quarters is not the sort of stretching his side needs, but Kylo is forgiving when it comes to Hux. Too forgiving. He knows this, but his time left with Hux is limited, and he’s not really interested in being angry with Hux. As that would require some degree of energy and really, with the time slipping away, that’s not how he’d like to spend it.

Thankfully, Hux is able to shower on his own, and ready himself in the ‘fresher for sleep. He insists Kylo do the same, and Kylo doesn’t fight him on it – he’s tired, and wearing what will undoubtedly be a pair of Hux’s too-tight sweatpants sounds like a joke he’d actually very much like to play on himself. It might be humorous.

Maybe he’s delirious with fatigue.

He washes up anyway, keeping his wrappings dry, and he changes in Hux’s bathroom.

As it turns out, Hux’s sweatpants are ill-fitting, but not so much to mock.

Coming out of the ‘fresher, Kylo is rather sure Hux will be unconscious in his bed, but no such luck.

Hux is very much awake, and wants to spar.

It really is like trying to get a young child into bed.

He indulges Hux for a few minutes – they wrestle lightly, and Kylo lets Hux win, in the hopes that it will appease Hux enough to get him to bed. Hux decides sitting on Kylo’s chest is rather comfortable, however, and stays there, milking his victory.

He looks down at Kylo with sleepy eyes, and a lax expression that’s all too charming – Kylo wishes he had more strength now, so that he could better read everything Hux’s feedback is likely putting out. His face is very handsome, even pale and tired as he is, he is handsome, and then Hux laughs, startling Kylo out of his staring before saying, “just felt your fucking heart against my arse – what in the stars are you scared of, Ren?”

“Hearts don’t just do that out of fear.”

Crouching over him like a feral animal, Hux plants his hands on the floor, on either side of Kylo’s head, and slides down Kylo’s torso like a stretching cat – the sweatpants are fitted enough that Kylo can feel just a little of Hux’s half-hard length and weight as he moves down languidly. He’s not grinding, exactly, but he’s applying pressure, and whatever he thinks is making him look intimidating is really just making Kylo inappropriately hard.

“Do you mean to say I don’t frighten you, Kylo?”

Kylo’s face heats up again. He likes it when Hux calls him by his first name. There’s something so private about it – so personal. No one else calls him, 'Kylo.' Only Hux does that and only on these rare occasions.  

He nods and says, “I have told you before Hux, I trust you. Unequivocally.”

“Do you know – do you remember when – that time you asked me, if it is feeling unsafe that is exciting to me, but that isn’t it – you were wrong. That’s not it. It is the feeling _of_ safety. That’s what excites me.”

There is sincerity in what Hux is saying. Kylo should stop him from speaking, but he doesn’t want to. He’s selfish, and he’s waited long for this – he has sparred to hear this, he has danced, tolerated Haas, faced off with the Commandant and now babysat a drunk First Order General to hear this. To hear something candid and irresponsible.

Hux is unlikely to remember any of this once he wakes, anyway.

What’s the harm, really?

“You asked about adrenaline – you asked if I felt excited going into battle, but – battle? When I went into battle – that was a job, that was – I was removed. There was no guarantee that I would come back alive, and I didn’t particularly care about living, or dying on the ground like a dog. I didn’t care. I didn’t care – I had never been safe.”

At that last claim, Kylo’s brow creases, and Hux nods, like he sees that Kylo is understanding what he’s saying. Like he might be speaking another language that Kylo is just learning.

“I had never been safe in my life at all. There was no person who I could rely on – there was no safety in people. Droids even reported ‘unsavory behavior,’ back to my father – I couldn’t, they weren’t – they wouldn’t protect me from him. And my home had my father and my father is most unsafe of all and when I left for the Academy, there was no safety – no one cared about anyone and again, I could live or die and who _cared_ , right? Who _cared_?”

Hux’s eyes film with water, and Kylo’s heart starts thudding for what it always thuds for, but for fear too now. Real fear.

“When had any day of my life been any different? When had there – when had there been a day that I had not thought ‘today I might live or die,’ and not felt a thing? No one could protect me at the Academy, I was alone and alone was safer than investing in others. And combat training…”

Breath caught in his throat, Kylo’s frozen, but Hux doesn’t leave his own eyes. He’s sort of faraway, but no so much so that he isn’t making sense. He means what he says – he’s just too drunk to realize he doesn’t want to be saying anything honest at all.

And Kylo has never claimed to be a good person.

He wants to know.

He wants to hear Hux tell him. He wants Hux to confide in him. He wants to prove his worthiness to Hux.

Kylo won’t stop him.

“…no one protected me. No one protected me.”

_Thin fingers gripping a railing, knuckles turning white._

_Unbearable rage. Unbearable pain. All blinding like a lightning strike._

_A tactile memory of puncturing another body with a weapon – nothing is clear._

“No one could. No one would. And the battles – I ran headlong into danger, but blasts and blades refused to find me and I couldn’t… death and oblivion teased me with their relief by keeping just out of my grasp no matter how careless I was…”

Hux stares down at Kylo’s clavicle. He runs his hand up Kylo’s chest experimentally, until his fingers start dancing over the sensitive skin of Kylo’s neck.

“Then you.”

Kylo meets Hux’s eyes; Hux is lying on top of him and if he’s noticed Kylo is hard, he hasn’t said anything and doesn’t seem to have any plan of saying anything. He seems too focused on getting these words out – Kylo thinks that Hux may even believe he’s asleep.

“No one could protect me from you. Not even yourself. But… then you made this effort – you had this desire to guard me, to serve me and make me feel safe, and it was thrilling and terrifying and it was the first thing I had _felt_ in so long…”

“Really?” Kylo whispers, awe spreading in his chest cavity like a warm flood.

“Really,” Hux answers, voice low and raspy from overuse, “I didn’t want to let you succeed, but you did. I felt safe in your presence. How you retaliated against my father – how could I ever… And when you – when you made the pond and the moons and the fucking grass, all because I… you didn’t just… you really, actually wanted for me to feel safe. You were the first person to ever want that for me…"

Those tears look dangerously close to falling, and having Hux’s teary eyes fixated on his own makes Kylo nearly intimidated – it’s heady, almost overbearing to have all the weight of Hux’s undivided attention.

“And I do,” Hux says, “When you’re near. I feel safe. And now, you nearly died for me… for _me_? What am _I_ worth? Some medals of arbitrary value? A family name? But there are these times – these absurd, nonsensical times that you – I think it, but you – then you make me feel like I _am_ worth something. And I believe you. I believe you, that no one can harm me if you are there.”

Hux lifts some of his weight up onto his elbows, bringing his hands to Kylo’s face, “I don’t want you to leave, Kylo. I am so tired of feeling unsafe. I am so tired. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Don’t say that.”

It hurts. Every nerve burns.

_You know I don’t want to leave you._

“Of course I know, I _know_ – you _said_ , I _know_ – you _said_ it, and I believe you, I believe you. Do you get it?” Hux asks – and it would seem hysterical if he weren’t murmuring it like he were in a dreamscape, “I _believe_ you. I _trust_ you, Kylo. It’s what you wanted – you have it. I trust you. Stay.”

“Stop.”

“I don’t want to,” Hux replies petulantly, his thumbs brushing over Kylo’s cheeks, “You are always destroying my things – you stomp around in your great big boots and your stupid helmet and you just insert yourself into my life like – not even giving me a choice – just Hellbent on – and the Angels – I don’t want you to leave. Like everyone else. Like everything else. You’re not like that – you’re not like everyone and everything else. Don’t go.”

“Hux, please stop –"

“No,” Hux answers, daring to bring his face closer, “No. You don’t stop no matter what I say or do and now, I don’t – now I won’t stop. I won’t. I _trust_ you. I trust you. You make me feel safe, and like I might – like I might be _worth_ something. I want you to stay. Don’t leave.”

“It’s an order I can’t disobey, Hux – I… I can’t… I have to go,” Kylo answers helplessly, the back of his eyes feeling hot and his throat feeling tight.

Hux blinks, and a single tear falls onto Kylo’s cheek, electrifying him. Hux hasn’t seemed to notice. That, or he just doesn’t care.

“Fine. You know, I could kill you. I could kill you, and then you wouldn’t be able to leave.”

Kylo smiles. It’s a deflection. That’s okay. That dark of Hux is familiar and Hux isn’t entirely joking, really. Some small part of him is contemplating trying to kill Kylo. Killing Kylo would allow him to say goodbye on his own terms – make it seem like he wanted to say goodbye. He’s thinking about it, but he won’t do it.

Kylo smiles sadly at him and replies, “I hate saying this, Hux, but that isn’t the most strategically sound idea you’ve come up with.”

“Then I’ll just kill you for the sake of killing you.”

“Very well,” Kylo answers mildly.

“I will. You watch me. You fuckin’ watch me. Kylo. I’m a very serious and powerful man, Kylo. I could kill you if I wanted.”

“Yes, I’m sure you could, Hux.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Hux slides down again, resting his face on Kylo’s chest, dropping his full weight onto Kylo carelessly and lazily. His hand pets over Kylo’s pectoral, slim fingers keep brushing Kylo’s nipple and he isn’t sure if Hux is doing it on purpose or not, but he can’t really stand much more of this.

Getting Hux to agree to get into bed is a fifteen minute ordeal, but once he does, Millicent hops up onto the bed contentedly, and lies by Hux’s feet. Kylo sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at Hux.

Hux’s eyes keep shutting, although he clearly wants to fight off the sleep. Kylo is unsure why. Perhaps it is the nightmares Hux is trying to avoid.

He touches his thumb and forefinger to Hux’s temple, wedging the last of his energy between Hux’s occipital, temporal, and parietal lobes. He blocks them from interacting with each other, which will give Hux a dreamless sleep. It’s all he has the strength to do for now.

His eyes flutter open when Hux’s hands grip at his forearm and wrist. He watches closely as Hux drags his hand down, making Kylo cup his warm face; Kylo doesn’t hesitate to pet Hux’s cheekbone with the tips of his calloused fingers. His thumb sits at the corner of Hux’s lips.

“When will you be moving your things in?”

“Hmm?”

“Your things, you idiot,” Hux mumbles, his eyes still shut, smothering his face more into Kylo’s hand, “You’re moving into my quarters. You told me so.”

Kylo smiles, uses his other hand to brush away some of Hux’s still-drying hair and replies, “during the next cycle. When you wake, I’ll be outside your door with all my numbered belongings, and you will hate every moment of willingly sacrificing your privacy.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I really don’t see why you have to be rude about it, Hux.”

Hux opens his eyes blearily, and stretches out his arms, reaching up to hold Kylo’s face. He tugs Kylo forward without much grace, and Kylo’s hands plant themselves onto Hux’s pillow to keep from falling on top of him.

Hux doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Good work saving my life and all.”

“Is that a ‘thank you,’ from the great General Hux? I’m honored.”

In no teasing mood apparently, Hux doesn’t respond to that. He instead threads his fingers through Kylo’s hair, giving Kylo chills – pleasant ones. Hux’s hands are warm and broad, and Kylo likes to feel them in his hair. He wonders if Hux likes it too – to have his hair touched by Kylo. Maybe he’ll ask Hux another time. A time when he’s not so distracted on keeping himself from collapsing on top of the man.

“You should be. I’m a very important man. And of course I drew you, you fool.”

Kylo’s heart skips a beat, and he barely breathes while Hux continues, dangerously unfiltered, dangerously uncensored, “you’ve this – this _incredible_ silhouette, and when I first saw you without your mask, I all but rushed to my desk to get it down on paper before I forgot the fine details… of course I drew you. You’re an idiot. I’ve drawn you a thousand times.”

After swallowing roughly and loudly, Kylo asks with a voice inexplicably shaking, “where… might I find those drawings?”

“My bedside table,” Hux answers, bedroom eyes zeroing in on Kylo’s again, “But I’ll only let you see them if you stay.”

Hux wraps his arms around Kylo’s neck, lifting himself – Kylo’s hands go to support Hux’s back. He can feel the bit of raised skin from the scar there.

“You _could_ kill me, and you _are_ a very important man, Hux, but you yourself have said that I can take whatever I want, whenever I please.”

“But you don’t,” Hux responds certainly, “You won’t. You’re not like the rest. You’re not like everyone and everything else. You’re not like me. You won’t steal from me. You’ll protect me.”

Hux’s eyes flicker back and forth between Kylo’s and Kylo’s hands feel hot against Hux’s back - everything feels hot, actually. Hux's eyes are doing that, somehow. Conjuring all this heat, despite being so icy cool. They're bewitching, making it so that Kylo's instincts are telling him to pull Hux up closer, fall into them. Or maybe to lower Hux back down onto his bed, settle their weights together, press against Hux. His instincts tell him to touch Hux’s face again, to brush through that hair, run his fingertips against the smooth satin of Hux's cheek or neck. To lean down until their faces are close, their foreheads meet and then he can kiss Hux.

... kiss Hux.

He wants to kiss Hux.

That revelation strikes him like a blow to the head, and he retracts his hands and arms as if Hux has burned him.

Hux falls back into the cushion of his bed with a tired smile, shutting his eyes, unaware of the destruction his loose tongue has wrought.

It’s hard for Kylo to breathe suddenly.

 _Why_ , he begs to no one, _why now? Why **him**? Why **this**?_

To sexually fantasize about a man – a man objectively handsome, a man attractive for all the reasons the mind finds people attractive; his symmetry of face, the fluid lines of his body, his strength – that’s fine, Kylo supposes. That’s okay, that’s fine so long as he’s able to keep it to himself, as he has.

Kissing is intimate, though. Kissing – kissing is something he has never wanted before. Never cared about.

He looks down at Hux’s resting face, his hair mussed the way Kylo likes to see it, a rosiness returning to Hux’s cheeks as he sleeps – the same rosiness Kylo so admires. Hux’s hair is vibrant against his sheets, his opaque, long lashes fanned out against his fair skin, his full lips parted just so.

Kylo wants to stay.

He wants to dig through Hux’s bedside table and see these thousands of sketches – hold the proof of Hux’s returned attentions.

He wants to lie down beside Hux and not move until Hux is wakeful, and asking him ridiculously to conjure water.

He wants to hold Hux.

He wants to kiss Hux.

He wants…

He wants Hux.

Power has nothing to do with it. Snoke’s approval means nothing – it cannot give him what he wants.

He wants _Hux_.

Hux’s trust is just a part of him, and it is hard earned, and Kylo has earned it, somehow, someway, but now he wants more.

No, he wants it all.

Hux’s first kiss was stolen.

Kylo will not be some common thief – he cannot kiss Hux as he sleeps, he cannot kiss Hux while he’s indisposed, drunk, or otherwise unable to judge his actions clearly. He will not look in the bedside table; he swore to Hux he was trustworthy. He swore to Hux he was safe from any beast so long as Kylo was beside him.

And Kylo himself is a beast he must protect Hux from.

Alarmed by his own thoughts, betrayed by his own instincts, Kylo stands up and staggers back a few steps, heart thundering and stomach tickling.

He has never been frightened like this before.

He looks at Millicent; her eyes luminous in the dark of the room.

She knows. Somehow she knows, and while she can’t tell Hux what she seems to know, Kylo is still tempted to silence her.

He shakes his head, holding his forehead, mutters to himself that he’s not making sense, he needs to calm down.

He hears Hux stretch with a groan, sigh deeply, and then say, sleepily, sweetly, “goodnight, Kylo.”

Kylo is far from the bed now, feeling small, and incapable, and unsure how Hux was able to steal all the strength and mindfulness from him with just a few stammered, drunken words.

He touches at his still-tender side.

The pain doesn’t help now. The pain doesn’t help him focus. The wrappings and injury only remind him of Hux, and nothing about this is alright.

He feels something for Hux more than simple, sexual hunger.

He wants more from Hux than Hux likely knows how to give.

He swore to protect Hux, and Hux finally believes him.

He won’t fail Hux now. He refuses to.

When the dawn of the break cycle comes, Hux will have forgotten most of this. Kylo will fill in the blanks for him if he so desires, but he will not embarrass Hux, or show Hux the wants in him he cannot suffocate.

He will live with Hux for the next few cycles, and then he’ll leave Hux and may never return. Staying with Hux will be torture, and leaving Hux will be torture, and Kylo supposes that’s just the way it goes when one allows themselves to feel so deeply for a man like Hux.

Because Hux is not a man of intimacy, Hux is not a man that allows anyone past his personal space bubble radius of three-to-five feet. Hux is a man that steals, and takes, and does not truly know how to give.

Hux is a man that was once a boy, a boy who either killed his fellow Academy students or wanted everyone to believe he did. Hux is a man with hands capable of, and only wanting for, destruction.

Hux is not a man to be held.

Hux is not precious.

Hux is not golden.

“Goodnight, Hux.”


End file.
